


Scholar's Mate

by Liena67



Series: From the end a new beginning [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Adlock, F/M, Kidnapping, Love, Organized Crime, Parenthood, Passion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-04-25 19:49:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 25,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14385897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liena67/pseuds/Liena67
Summary: In this second long story new characters are born, which will enter the life of Sherlock and all the others.Sherlock continues in his inner growth as he faces a new case that will lead him to other changes and enrichments in his life.This is a sequel of Black Heart and I suggest you to start from it.The thrills of terror are as voluptuous as those of pleasure, if not more. Oscar Wilde- He blinks several times, as if somehow struck and surprised by what he is seeing. He does not speak for several minutes, so he returns the phone to Greg."Alert that I accept the case. Be sent me the details, I’ll study them tonight and tomorrow we go to him" he says, leaving everyone speechless for the sudden change of decision.-This is a relationship that seems a duel, he reflects smiling, where the points are always equal.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a translation of my original italian works, so forgive my english

**The thrills of terror are as voluptuous as those of pleasure, if not more.**

**Oscar Wilde**

**At an undefined point outside London - 17 July 2018 - 9.00 p.m.**

It is dark. It's not cold but that stinks and wet everywhere get inside you. Dark and cold. He hates them, but they are part of his life. Of his little life. He knows, Jimmy told him, his life is still small. A child just, "maybe you're ten or eleven," he once told him. But it seems to him so much. A whole life of dark and cold and their only voices, sometimes screaming or crying. And then, the absolute silence when someone opens the door at the top of the stairs. Then comes the fear too. That is not like darkness or cold. This fear is worse, it makes you tremble a lot more, it makes your heart tremble.

But Jimmy taught him many things and now he knows what he has to do. He must count.

Whenever the door opens he counts, Jimmy told him how to do it. One, two, three, four, five stairs that the bad man goes down. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven steps when he arrives in front of the door of his dark place. One, two and the blinding light comes on. One, two, three, four, keep your eyes down between your legs and you can see something, while he goes to get the food tray.

Now, Miki, so he called him his friend Jimmy, now Miki, when you see him take the tray you get up and run, run fast, close the door and lock it, then run still fast, very fast. Count the steps Miki, do not be afraid even if you see little and with only one eye. Count the steps to get to the stairs, count the steps to get to the door. Do not listen to his screams of rage, you run. Get to the door on the stairs and run to the right. Whatever you see, do not be afraid. Run until you get out of there and then run even if you miss your breath until you get on a road. You have to do it Miki, you have to do it for yourself and for the others who are here.

The darkness and the damp of his cell envelops the little boy with creeping shadows. All he does is repeat the same things since his friend Jimmy, who arrived there after him and older than him, died in that cell. He stayed in the company of his dead body for who knows how long. He does not have the perception of time. He does not even know how much he is in there. He has no memory of anything else in his life except that cell, that stink of wet and the voices and lamentations of other children and children like him. Jimmy has taught him many things, such as counting and doing gymnastics, how to have muscles trained. Jimmy wanted to escape, and he repeated to him that plan at least a thousand times, until a terrible fever, after the last time they had taken him away and then brought back to his cell, it did not cut him off and left him dead there, next to him. From that moment Miki, he likes this name now, does nothing but count, think about every detail.

And now he is ready, he hears him coming, he counted all the stairs that the bad man came down, he counted every step he took. He bends his head between his legs, to not be blinded in the only eye that he has, the right one. He squints the eye and counts the steps of the man in the room. At the right time, with a feline shot and totally unexpected, he jumps towards the open door and with a desperate force closes it, blocking it just in time. He does not stay still, despite the blows and screams of anger on the door make him tremble. He starts running at breakneck speed, without ever ceasing to count to avoid, in the darkness of the cellars and in the blinding light of the upper floors, to fall and get hurt. He must not stop. He cannot stop. Arrived at the top of the stairs, behind him the screams of the man overlap with those of children and he does not know whether they are encouragement, fear or joy for his escape. But Miki can’t stop and think, he has had too much time, in his still little life, to think. He only has to run and, closing the cellar door behind him, he goes along the corridor going to the right, from where he felt the footsteps coming. At the end, he finds himself in front of the door that goes outwards.

It's dark outside, but that dark makes him less afraid of what he is leaving behind. He opens it, turning the key like Jimmy told him to do, and he feels that air so new, so different, so fresh, not cold, that he can’t resist the urge to breathe it for a few moments, before starting again to run. He absolutely does not know where to go. He never left that cell, not at least awake, not that he remembers. But Jimmy was good, he told him about the trees, the plants, the gardens. Recalling his friend's words, he recognizes the limits of the garden and the gate from which he must escape. He runs feeling the pain under his feet, because he does not have shoes. He wears only pants and a shirt. But the pleasure of running, feeling the scents of the trees and the fresh air that surrounds him, is so intense as to overcome the pain of the feet, which even begin to bleed meeting shrubs and small stones. He runs like crazy through a forest and runs for hours and hours until the sky begins to be less dark.

Suddenly under his feet he feels something smooth and warm. A road. He recognizes it from how Jimmy had described it to him. He looks from one side to the other. He still does not know where to go but from behind a curve he sees two lights, that quickly approach, and hears a noise, a rumble that he can’t recognize, because he has never heard it. He remains petrified in the middle of the road and now, as the lights approach, the rumble diminishes but now he hears a loud and jarring noise. He closes his only eye and putts his hands over his ears, until he hears it finish. The noise subsides, the lights are now in front of him still. He hears a noise similar to a door that opens and steps approaching. They are different from those of the bad man.

Miki reopen the eye and sees someone before him, a woman with a kind face who looks at him.

"Oh God, kid, what are you doing in the middle of the road? I didn’t run over you for a while. What happened? Do you need help?"

Miki looks at the woman and that kind voice makes him almost weep with joy.

"I have to save my friends, please"


	2. Chapter 2

**London - Baker Street - 18 July 2018 - 4.00 p.m.**

It is not a very hot July and the rains are alternating with days of lukewarm sun. London is full of tourists, which, despite the pouring water of the last two days, fill the streets of the center, museums, nightclubs, fascinated by its sober royalty, which has not lost its charisma even after the effects of Brexit.

Baker Street is not generally a tourist destination, but some fans of the great detective occasionally are standing in front of the 221B, waiting to see him. For this reason, Sherlock is now standing at the corner of the street and tries not to get noticed by two girls, which are clearly awaiting his arrival. Luckily in July he certainly does not use his unmistakable coat and today, on the first sunny day, not even the jacket, but certainly he does not go unnoticed from who know him. His long-limbed appearance, dark hair with rebellious curls, his light eyes and that particular face is hard to hide. He enters a cafe, hoping the two girls will move away. The little screams that they do when they see him, irritate him particularly and then he must repeat to himself, as a mantra, to try not to be rude and smile, which does not always succeed. In the last three and a half months, since he left the hospital, after a bullet nearly killed him, he was forced to a long convalescence, not being able to do much if not staying at home.

In order to hold off his overactive mind, he stormed his friend Inspector Greg with text messages and asked to him to send out cases, that he could solve even without leaving his apartment. He read all the books of quantum physics that he had not read yet. He sent his perennial friend and adventure companion John around with a camera always on, so he can follow each case from a distance. Every day he called his anatomopathologist friend Molly, to get read the cards of all the autopsies done. He most frequently called his brother Mycroft, used to hearing him rarely, and every time his phone call arrived, he prayed that his little brother had not combined one of his usual messes. In short, it was a thorn in the side for all his friends, that strange and varied team that over time has become his family.

The only one who managed to keep him at bay, without allowing him to drag her into his delirium of abstinence from hyperactivity, was Irene. Perhaps because her presence somehow always manages to calm him down, but above all because she is the only one who manages to keep up with him.

Today, however, he can finally return to take full possession of his life, as he understands it, and does not have the patience to stop and smile at his fans, although it is always intimately flattered. In the cafe where he entered, on a table someone has forgotten a cap. He takes it and covers it well, by hiding the curls under it and the face under the visor. Then he goes out again and crossed the road he proceeds towards 221B, hands in his pockets, trying to have a shuffled walk, so as not to make his elegant way of moving.

The two girls have now moved from the entrance to stop in front of the red-faced cafe, which is located right under his house, and hoping to see it in there, they do not notice his arrival.

Taking advantage of their distraction Sherlock hurries the pace and, even before the girls turn around, he opens the front door and quickly enters closing it behind him. With a sigh of relief, once he enters, he takes off his cap by hanging it on the hook and, with his hands, he gives life to his hair.

Mrs. Hudson, the owner of the building, looks at him from her ground floor apartment.

"Did you change your hat, Sherlock? I don’t like it, I prefer the usual one" she says approaching "I'm preparing tea for John and Irene, do you want it too?" she then asks him while turns back to the kitchen.

"I didn’t change hat, don’t worry, and anyway, I do not like the other one either" Sherlock answers, now resigned to having to wear that funny hunting hat, which once used to try to hide from journalists, which then became an integral part of his character.

"Yes, I would like the tea," he adds, finally climbing the stairs to his apartment. On reaching the top floor, he finds his door open and immediately sees John and Irene at the desk in front of the laptop. They are certainly working on John's blog, as usual in recent months.

"Here, I’m back" he says to both entering the house.

John raises a hand at him with a nod, without even looking up from the laptop, while Irene looks at him for a moment sending him a kiss, before returning to focus on what John is writing.

Sherlock arches an eyebrow but, without saying anything, he goes to sit on the couch watching them. He is happy that they have tied together, but not being the center of attention, is something that happens rarely and to which he is not very used to.

"I went to the hospital to Dr. Gartimer for the last examination. He said I’m all right and I can consider myself healed," he says, expecting any reaction.

"Oh good, good, I'm happy " John answers, continuing to write.

"Dr. Gartimer is smart, if he says you're okay we can be calm" Irene adds, stopping at that moment John "no wait, let's write like that" she says moving the laptop to herself to correct the post they are preparing.

Sherlock still watches them, tapping his hand on the arm of the coach.

"He is a good doctor. He told me that I can resume my every habit without problems but with a certain caution," he says, trying to get attention, but the two seem too absorbed to listen to him. Meanwhile Mrs. Hudson enters carrying a tray with tea and biscuits for everyone standing it on a table.

The hand of Sherlock does not stop drumming and in silence he still observes everyone, until a slight smile does not ruffle his lips.

"What I did not understand, however, is why Dr. Gartimer reacted that way when I asked him what kind of limits I had to have" he says, getting up from the coach to go near Mrs. Hudson "I started to list my habits and he started stuttering, a strange reaction from a doctor."

At that moment, Irene turns to look at him.

"What habits have you talked about to the doctor?" she asks, raising an eyebrow and thus attracting the attention of John, who now looks up from the laptop turning to his friend behind them.

"I see I got your attention. Good. You know, as far as the blog is about me, I find that talking directly with me can be more stimulating" he says with apparent seriousness, "however, if you are curious, I told the doctor, rather in detail I have to say, how I love spending time with my woman"

As soon as he speaks, Sherlock takes Mrs. Hudson by the shoulders, gently but firmly, and accompanies her to the door.

"And because in the last three months I have been granted at most little more than chaste kisses" he continues, coming back for take John and after having him get up, he also pushes him towards the door "I would like now to be able to stay with her and recover the lost time"

Hearing him, Irene starts laughing.

"Oh God, Sherlock, Doctor Gartimer seems to have come out of the nineteenth century, he will have had a heart attack” she says, unable to keep herself from laughing at the thought of the incredible embarrassment he must have submitted to him.

John, for his part, after the first moment of perplexity, looks up to sky, hoping that in fact the doctor has no heart problems.

"But you really had to tell him the details Sherlock? You're impossible," his friend tells him, though he cannot help smiling.

"He's a doctor, I don’t understand what kind of problems he had with my questions" he seriously tells him, pushing Mrs. Hudson on the landing "see you tomorrow John, indeed… no… I'll call you" and without waiting for an answer he closes the door.

John and Mrs. Hudson remain for a few moments on the landing without speaking.

"John, I think they want to be alone," Mrs. Hudson says, without a breakup, accustomed now to the ways of Sherlock, in general always direct and never diplomatic.

"Yes, I think so, what about going to my house? Rosie will be happy to see you and if you stay with her, I do not have to call the baby sitter, while I go to the clinic," he replies, turning to the stairs.

"I would say it's a good idea, my dear," Mrs. Hudson exclaims, walking down to the lobby with him and shortly after, they both leave 221B.

As soon as the door is closed, Sherlock turns to Irene who, still sitting at the desk, keeps laughing amused.

"You're a terrible man, do you know that?" she asks, looking at him as he approaches her, "you've made John's life almost hell in the last few months, because he had to run everywhere for your whims, and now he's liquid that way, it's not very nice" she adds without ceasing to smile.

"Yes, it's true, but you like me like that... and in a sense, him too" Sherlock replies.

"And let me see, what limits did the doctor give you?" she asks, when Sherlock takes her hand and makes her stand up.

"Not many to tell the truth, now I'll take you to the bedroom and I'll explain you in detail" he whispers, starting to kiss her as he begins to push her towards the bedroom.

"Well... I'm glad... because I admit that this forced abstinence has increased my appetite" she whispers, still amused between kisses, before Sherlock closes the bedroom door behind them.


	3. Chapter 3

**London - police station - minor section - 18 July 2018 - 5.00 p.m.**

Eleonor Mendoza is watching for the umpteenth time the issue that the captain gave her just before.

The photos taken at the hospital show a boy aged no more than eleven, maybe even less. He is thin but not undernourished. He has brown hair and long up to his shoulders. Not clean but not so dirty as to have lice or skin diseases. Cut perhaps roughly several times, just to keep them from growing too much, without any care or aesthetics. One of the ocular orbits, the left one, is hollow. The medical report indicates that his left eye has been surgically removed, but no prior diseases of the optic nerves are reported. The right eye, of an intense gray color, does not look like that of a child but of an adult, of an old almost, for the intensity with which he fixes the lens. The medical report also specifies that the boy does not seem to have suffered, either sexual or physical violence but also has a lack of kidney.

Eleonor suddenly closes the file closing her eyes.

Her pretty light olive face recalls her Mexican side, as well as her long dark hair and her eyes, pitch black, as her mother always told her. When she was young, she would have liked to be as blond as her mother, English for generations. But she inherited all her father's Mexican genes, including his passion for this work. She had neither brothers nor sisters to play with as a child, but he was enough for her. He has always been her best friend and for her to have the appearance of her father has always been a source of pride. She does not know if she will ever become as popular as Captain Mendoza, but for now she is happy with becoming a lieutenant and only with her own strength. Because not only she had to fight tight-lipped, in a world that is still so purely masculine, but also against prejudices against her. The daughter of the great captain Mendoza who goes on only because she is his daughter. Getting the respect of her team's agents was not a walk, but over the years she has managed to conquer them all.

Now Eleonor finds herself in front of a really bad case, she understood it right away. A hot potato that that pusillanimous of Fuller, her colleague of the minor section, has left to her, with the excuse that his turn was now ending and could not deal with it.

It's not just about understanding well what happened to this kid and who he actually is. It’s about saving others, or at least to understand if there are really others to save.

She reopens the file again and looks at the picture, observing that look of that lonely eye, so vivid and intense as to seem to be staring at her.

"Okay, Miki, or whatever your name is, let's see if we can get out of this mess" she says, still looking at the picture.

Then Eleonor closes the file again, gets up from her desk and with the folder under her arm comes out directed to the hospital.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**London - Wellington Hospital South – 18 July 2018 - 6.00 p.m.**

Miki is seated in a chair in front of a table in the room that they have reserved for him in the hospital's pediatric ward, where the woman, who had picked him up on the street, has brought him. Rachel, this is the name of the kind woman, soft and maternal with short blond hair and a round and sunny face like everything in her. She is a nurse of that structure and that morning she was going to work when she found him. She comes often to see him, even if she works in a different department and he likes her, she always smiles, she has a voice that reassures him.

The nurses put a white bandage on his missing eye and they tell him that now he looks like a pirate, but he does not know what a pirate is. He is not used to all of this and even though he now seems immobile, he is actually studying everything around him. The sounds and voices he hears in the corridor and come from other rooms or from the street. The clean bed with scented sheets and soft pillows. The big windows that let in so much light and the balcony full of climbing plants that descend towards the road. The bedside table with a light that if he wants he can keep lit all night. Books and copybooks to draw, with pencils and felt-tip pens scattered on the table in front of him. All of this is new to him and fill him with wonder and curiosity. He opened and peeled at least five times all the books full of drawings that they gave him. The others were full of signs that he cannot understand. They asked him if he could read, but he did not answer. He does not know what it means to read, no one has ever spoken to him. At least three different doctors and as many nurses entered the room. Now he knows how to distinguish one from the other and he understands that everyone takes care of him, even if in a different way. He feels safe for the first time and the initial confusion is now turning into curiosity. But they keep asking him questions that he cannot answer. They asked him about his parents, about his real name, not about what Jimmy gave him, where he came from, where he was. But he only knows that he was in a dark place along with many others and ran away into the trees. Now he looks at the white sheets. They asked him to draw, as in the books he looked before. He's been staring at them for a while and would like to please them, because they treat him so well and he doesn’t want to disappoint them. But he cannot, in his mind there is now emptiness. Just he remembers Jimmy, the voices of the other children and the scent of the trees as he ran. He ran so fast and now he doesn’t remember anything else. He remains so steady to stare, with his single eye, those white sheets without moving a muscle.

In the corridor, Eleonor Mendoza is watching the little boy through the glass pane on the door of the room. It is at least a quarter of an hour, that she is watching him and he has not moved. He is still, sitting at the table, staring at the books and the copybooks before him but doing nothing. A voice behind her makes her wince slightly.

"You must be Lieutenant Mendoza, did you?" Eleonor turns and there is a doctor in front of her. A man in his forties, good looking, could be said, even if fairly common. Brown hair cut short, dark eyes hidden by a pair of lenses, not particularly fit but not too overweight.

"I'm Dr. Arthur Bailey" the man presents himself with a friendly smile, extending his hand "I'm a pediatrician in this department and I'm treating the patient in this room".

Eleonor stretches out her hand and squeezes the doctor's, as hard as she usual does.

"Nice handshake lieutenant!" He exclaims, imitating a grimace of fake grief "I'm sorry, I'm used to dealing with children and sometimes I do a little too much the fool even with adults" he then adds seriously.

"Do not worry, it's great. There are too many serious people in the world" she replies smiling "I still have to ask you some questions before entering the room, so if you have a little time, I would be grateful" she then says pointing to a waiting room in front of her.

"Of course. In fact, I was going to say the same thing, because this patient is already very close to my heart and I would like to do something to help him. Come let us sit down," the doctor says, opening the waiting room and, after entering, closes the door, sitting with her facing each other.

"If you want, Lieutenant Mendoza, I can already tell you what I know and what unfortunately I fear" Dr. Bailey says.

"I listen to you. Tell me everything you know and what you imagine has happened" Eleonor answers, placing her hands on the armrests and crossing her legs.

"Then. As you have already understood from the medical reports, the child, I will call him Miki, even if it may not be his real name, he is about ten or eleven years old. He is healthy and strong, his analyzes do not report any previous or current pathology. But someone took away his eye and kidney. Fortunately, his constitution is healthy to the point that he has no problem despite having only one kidney, and for most of his life, he will not have to worry about it. The operations were done with precision, but in none of our databases we found a trace of a child of his age who had to remove the eye and kidney. I did not find evidence of diseases for which it had to be done, so I must hypothesize that they voluntarily and without any need have removed them"

The doctor spoke without stopping and now looks at Eleonor with a sad look.

"These things, doctor, bring us to the key question, why, why they did it and from where Miki escaped" Eleonor replies, tapping with one hand, while she begins to form various hypotheses in her mind.

"The reason is your task to understand it, but if you allow me a suggestion, I would investigate in the field of organ trafficking. Unfortunately, it is a terrible practice and a real scourge. Most of the time, it's on a voluntary basis, people who sell their organs to the black market in exchange for money, feeding this barbarism. So let me say, it's really barbaric," Dr. Bailey says, shaking his head with a clear sense of powerlessness towards all this "but the worst happens when the organs aren’t taken on a voluntary basis, and unfortunately it is right on the children that this happens, often sold by parents. Believe me, for years that I denounce these things, but it seems there is never an end to the worst" the doctor's voice is now almost a whisper and with a tired sigh, he backs his back as if overwhelmed by the pain.

"This could be a valid hypothesis, as it could also be done by someone who does it for pure personal pleasure. A maniac in short, and I do not know what is worse, to tell the truth, between the two hypotheses" she says, getting up now from the chair "thank you so much Doctor Bailey. If you do not mind if I need it, I'll contact you again. Now I try to talk to Miki and see if I can get some clues to help us" she adds holding out his hand.

The man stands up and takes her hand with both of his.

"I'm afraid that he will not be able to get much. Miki seems to have entered a catatonic state, perhaps because of the shock. However, count on me for anything. If I can help you, I will do it with pleasure" and said this, he opens the door of the waiting room and disappears after a while along the corridor.

Eleonor approaches Miki's room again. She looks through the glass and he is still there, sitting in exactly the same position as she had left him before. She looks at him with tenderness and then with a sigh, as if to force herself, she opens the door and enters the room.


	5. Chapter 5

**London - Baker Street - 19 July 2018 - 6.30 p.m.**

Today is a special day for a ceremony like the one that was organized to thank the beloved and hated detective, who everyone is talking about in London. The Evans case of the past few months was however of such importance for the government and the Crown, that it was decided not to postpone it further, combining the delivery of the medal to a charity evening, as suggested by Sherlock and John. The car sent by Mycroft arrives on time in 221B Baker Street.

John sees it from the living room window.

"Sherlock the car is here, are you ready?" He says to his friend, speaking out loud to be heard through the corridor to his bedroom.

At that moment the door opens and Sherlock comes out, impeccably dressed in an elegant tuxedo.

"I'm here, I'm ready, hopefully it will not last long because I feel like I'm getting bored" he says, reaching him in the living room.

"Please do not be capricious, most of the evening you will spend it at the table with me, Molly Greg and also Mrs. Hudson, so if you try to say now that even you'll get bored, I swear it's the right time to punch you" John tells him in a tone between the serious and the ironic.

"It would not be the first time you punched me, to tell the truth, anyway it's okay, I will avoid doing... the whims ... as you have defined them" Sherlock answers sighing.

"Do you think Irene will come?" John asks, taking his jacket from his chair.

"I do not know. I didn’t ask him to tell the truth. If she wants to come, she will do it herself," Sherlock answers, starting to go down the stairs.

"And for God sake, why did not you ask her?" his friend asks him, spreading his arms in a dejected gesture almost.

"Irene never does anything she does not want to do. Ask her it would have been useless. If she wants to come, she will come," Sherlock tells him quietly when he has reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Yes, I have no doubt about this," John adds, almost speaking more to himself.

Mrs. Hudson waits for them in the lobby.

"Oh guys how excited I am. It is the first time that I participate in such an exclusive event," she says with an almost radiant expression.

"Mrs. Hudson, did your husband not take you to dinner in the best restaurants in town?" John asks her, recalling her stories.

"He did it all right, but he often disappeared into the back rooms. I discovered then that he went to those restaurants to meet with his questionable business partners, to organize the arrivals of big drug matches" she answers without interruptions "but tonight, I'm sure nobody leaves me alone at the table" she says finally, looking at both as if to clarify an important point for her.

"Mrs. Hudson, I promise you this will not happen," Sherlock tells her, offering her his right arm before opening the door and going out to the waiting car.


	6. Chapter 6

**London - Whitehall - Banqueting House - 18 July 2018 - 7.00 p.m.**

The journey from Baker Street is not very long. The streets are not very busy at the end of July and only taxis, which transport tourists, are the most used transport  this evening.

Sherlock casually looks out the window, admiring the Victoria Tower as they cross Whitehall, the main thoroughfare leading from the parliament building to Charing Cross.

Mrs. Hudson continues to chat with John, excited and excited like a child.

Sherlock instead seems always lost in thought and his right hand instinctively goes to the gold chain, that always carries under his shirt. A fleeting pleasant thought runs through him and a slight smile now cracks his lips.

The palace where the ceremony is held is the Whitehall Banqueting House. The building, intended for shows and court receptions, is considered one of the best products of English Classicism and is the best preserved of this kind of buildings, built by the English sovereigns to organize ceremonies and court dinners. In front of the imposing entrance, various luxury cars of all kinds come together to bring down the guests of the evening. Selected among the most influential and rich, the ceremony provides to raise funds to be allocated to various institutions and hospitals. An event that gathered immediate adhesions thanks to the announcement of the presence of the detective that everyone would like to know. Curious visitors and journalists crowd near the entrance, protected by cords and policemen.

When their car approaches, flashes follow each other quickly. Sherlock is the first to go out and as always does not care neither to smile nor turn to photographers. He only turns his attention to journalists when he closes an important case and knows then that he has to answer questions about how he solved it. For the rest, he does not even seem to notice the almost obsessive curiosity that he unleashes in his fans. Always giving his arm to Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock enters the building alongside John who, contrary to him, smiles friendly to photographers and journalists, as if to compensate for his friend's total indifference. The atrium of the building is already full of guests who observe the magnificent colonnade that runs around the perimeter, and the large ceiling that houses panels painted by Rubens. The room set up for dinner and ceremony it is at the bottom on the right and already begins to fill. The three start towards it, going to meet Greg and Molly, who have recently arrived too.

Greg seems awkward in the tuxedo, which he is clearly not used to wearing. Molly, despite her simplicity, turns out to be elegant but clearly embarrassed.

"Well, are you ready to go into the lions pit?" Sherlock asks his friends "and remember that you insisted that I participate, so now you have to be strength, a deep breath, after all they are only the most powerful people in the world country, they are not human, you know" he says with a slight smile, unleashing those giggles that help to temper the nervousness.

When they enter the hall the murmurs of those who are already present increase. Everyone wants to see the famous detective up close and the curiosity touches every level and social class. Their table, round like any other, is the central one and in the front row in front of the small stage, where the ceremony for the delivery of the medal merit will take place. Between the stage and the tables a large semicircular space that will allow to dance for those who want it. To the right of the stage a piano was set up with some chairs, where a few orchestras sit to accompany dinner and after dinner with elegant and pleasant music. Everything is taken care of down to the smallest details and Sherlock observes everything carefully. Most of the tables are already occupied by their guests. Personality of the economic, artistic and governmental world. A top-level gala evening. Probably his brother Mycroft made sure everything was perfectly organized. Sherlock wonders if at least he will show up for the end of the evening. Not that his lack disturbs him, at all. Already organizing all of this must have been a huge effort for him, though he probably did it just to prevent his unpredictable little brother from embarrassing him in some way, which Sherlock continually enjoys doing.

Greg and Molly are the first to arrive at the table and stop to read the initials of their names, finely embroidered on place cards.

Mrs. Hudson leaves Sherlock's arm and finds her place at the left of the table. Greg and Molly are on the right instead. In the middle, back to the whole room, at the specific request of Sherlock, there is his place. On his right, of course, John. On his left another place. Sherlock looks at him puzzled, he was sure that Mycroft would not come. He approaches to read the initials on the napkin and remains pleasantly surprised. John also looks at the empty place.

"I thought your brother would never come, you know," John says, thinking that is reserved for Mycroft.

"In fact John, it's not for my brother, look at the initials" his friend tells him.

John then looks up and reads the initials: I.A.

"Exactly..." John whispers now with an ironic tone.

At that moment a sudden silence falls in the hall, the murmuring is only mild and all eyes are magnetized towards a single point. John seems for a moment also speechless, then looks to Sherlock who is instead giving his back to the entrance, watching the reactions on everyone's faces, from friends to all those seated at the other tables.

"You know, you should turn Sherlock," John tells him.

"She already has the eyes of the whole room on her, she does not even need mine," he says absently, arranging the napkin better with the initial ones.

"On this I would not swear" John says, moving away from him.

At that point Sherlock finally decides to turn around and a few steps away he sees Irene looking at him with that enigmatic and seductive smile.

She wears a long dark dress with a series of transparent laces that make the breasts glimpse, even without being vulgar. She moves as always with the elegance and security of a panther, clearly indifferent to all the looks on her, even if that is exactly what she wants, to provoke in other amazements, desire, embarrassment, all sorts of possible reactions. She stops a few steps from their table and Sherlock, without stopping to look at him.

"Well, you turned around, I was afraid you would have given me your back all evening, as you decided to do with everyone else" Irene's voice is warm and seductive like her, but the smile is ironic as she talks to him, pointing the strategic position that he decided to have sitting in that place.

"I see you have succeeded in a new venture, make sure you have a place at this table without my brother knowing it, I think it was really difficult" he says in a tone clearly amused.

"It was not that difficult, I have a lot of knowledge you know. Casually I know who prepares the arrangement of these rooms... or at least I know what he likes" Irene answers as she approaches the table and only now turns his gaze to the other "good evening everyone" she adds.

"Well, now that you've attracted all the attention on us, we can even sit down, I believe," Sherlock says, taking her chair to invite her to sit down and then sit down, too, followed by everyone else.

The waiters now start going around the tables, filling everyone's glasses, thus giving way to the official dinner.

"So Sherlock, did you enjoy observing all the reactions of the room at my entrance?" Irene asks, taking her glass.

"You know me well, I know" he replies smiling "really, human reactions are a fascinating study. Sociologically they have written volumes and volumes but direct observation is quite another. And of course I also counted ten men and fifteen women who you clearly know... personally," he says confidently, alluding to the fact that they must be her clients. He now also takes a drink while Irene stays with her hanging glass, looking at him for a few moments.

"And did you understand it in those few seconds? Please do not start, the evening is long before the end of the ceremony... and you know how irresistibly sexy I find when you do so" her warm voice is just a whisper that only he can hear, and in speaking she touches with one hand the inside of his leg, so no one can see.

Sherlock does not react, even if the glass has for a moment a very slight tremor. He cannot add anything else and for him it's really rare. He quickly drinks a sip and luckily the waiters arrive with the first courses that help to dilute the moment's tension.

Dinner goes on and the dishes, with small portions of haute cuisine, are followed by a dance of flavors, while the wine of the best vintages fills their glasses. Now it seems like any dinner with friends, with Sherlock and John telling the details and anecdotes of their latest cases. Arrived at dessert the atmosphere is relaxed and cheerful. The stage is about to be prepared for the ceremony and the music, which until then has accompanied the evening, ends to give way to free space from the instruments.

At that moment Greg's phone rings.

"Lestrade" the inspector responds, as always without looking at who is calling him "yes... of course he is here with me, it is his ceremony we would have brought to force even if he had not wanted to come" tell him to the person with which he's talking about "oh... but are you sure it's a good idea? I do not really think he is the right person... ah... I understand... okay I'll let you know by" then he closes the conversation and now looks to Sherlock. His expression is clearly perplexed, as if he were not at all convinced of something.

Sherlock watches him until he snorts impatiently.

"Come on Greg just ask me, at most I can tell you that it's a stupid idea, you should be used to hear it" he says looking at him.

"Yes. Actually I will never get used to it... anyway... it was a colleague of mine in the minors department. It seems there is a particular boy escaped from which one is not well known as a prison. Maybe there are others like him to free but the kid cannot say anything concrete or give clues that can help" Greg starts to say with a circumspect.

"And what do I have to do with all this? Call a social worker or psychiatrist and maybe he can help you" Sherlock replies and with a wave of his hand seems to say that the matter is closed for him.

"It's what everyone seems to have told her, but she says you could help him. It seems that the boy, according to her, has a particular intelligence and that perhaps with your memory techniques you could help him remember the details of the place where he was held prisoner" then he takes the phone where a photo has now arrived and hands towards Sherlock to show it to him.

"It is not possible to teach these techniques in a short time and never before to a child" he continues to say, before taking the phone that Greg is giving him. Then he looks at the picture and remains speechless. He blows his eyes several times as if he were somehow struck and surprised by what he is seeing. He does not speak for several minutes, so he returns the phone to Greg.

"Notify her that I accept the case. Let us send the details, I'll study them tonight and tomorrow we'll go to him" he says simply, leaving everyone speechless for the sudden change of decision.


	7. Chapter 7

**London - Baker Street - 20 July 2018 - 7.00 a.m.**

Those eyes, which vary according to the light between gray and blue, with the morning light in the morning have green shades, making his gaze even more intense and deep. He did not sleep much tonight, although with Irene he said goodbye when he left the ceremony. She immediately understood that he needed to be alone and did not ask questions. This is one of the reasons why he loves her, she manages to understand him without needing him to say anything and without the urgency of having to immediately explain his states of mind, especially when it is not yet clear to him. But since he returned home, he did nothing but study the files and photos that came to him by mail and that, after printing them, he spread on the floor in the living room. He slept a few hours but from five in the morning he went back to study them and now he fixes the photo of this boy, Miki, who made him decide to accept the case. Sometimes his mind runs so fast that he senses something and only after a few seconds or minutes, an eternity for him, he understands what it was to hit him. When he decided to accept the case he did not know why he did it right away. But this time it took him hours to get to understand it, to accept it.

These thoughts have filled his mind since he woke up, but now each of them is taking his place in his mental palace and in doing so he reconquers his natural lucidity.

Miki looks at him from that picture they did in the hospital. He is sitting in front of a table and stares at the lens with his only right eye. The other is covered by a bandage and makes him look like a pirate.

_"Barbarossa"_ Sherlock whispers to himself now. Not that he thinks he is the same child, obviously not. And neither does he look like him, because his childhood friend had red and short hair while Miki has brown and a little long hair. But in a moment that photo, that look particularly intense, strong, lucid but also confused and scared at the same time, brought him back in time. He relived the immense pain felt when his sister Eurus, out of jealousy towards him and the particular madness that distinguishes her, had dropped his friend into a well, letting Sherlock look for him everywhere, without being able to find and save him. This event had so much traumatized him that he had it erased and changed in his memory, leading him to be the man who later became. Only having remembered allowed him, in the end, to move forward in his life. He believed he had overcome it. Having saved John, who was in danger of making the same end as his childhood friend, had been cathartic for him. But since the night before he saw that picture, the sense of guilt for not being able to save his childhood friend is back overbearing. That's why he accepted the case on impulse, he can’t allow it to happen again, this child needs help.

"The way I can do it, dear Miki, is all to discover" he adds with a short sigh.

Then he takes the photos and the printed sheets of the file and, collected in a folder, gets up from the floor and puts them on the desk, before going to the bathroom to take a shower and get ready, waiting for John to get him.


	8. Chapter 8

**London - Wellington Hospital South - 20 July 2018 - 10.00 a.m.**

Eleonor Mendoza arrived earlier than the scheduled time agreed with Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. For half an hour she has been standing in front of Miki's door to observe him. Doctors, child psychologists and social workers continue to tell her that he is in a catatonic state because of stress and that communicating with him is not possible at the moment. But she is not convinced. That look is not that of a fool nor that of a child not present to himself. She is sure of it. That's why she decided to play the Holmes card. Obviously it's a nice risk. The detective is famous for his intelligence and skill but also for being a sociopath, sometimes arrogant and not inclined to diplomacy. He is certainly not the most suitable to deal with a child, at least for what they told her. But something tells her that if they want to help him and maybe, if all is true, help others too, this is the only chance they have. How to play Russian roulette, but maybe luck for once could be on the side of this kid.

The steps along the corridor approaching, distract her from these thoughts and she turns around to see the two men arrive. She has never worked with them before, perhaps because of her particular minors sector, but as everybody, she knows them. She moves from the door of Miki's room and waits for them in front of the door of the waiting room opposite.

"Good morning Mr. Holmes... Dr. Watson... I am Lieutenant Eleonor Mendoza and I deal with this case. I wanted to thank you for accepting it,” she says, holding out her hand to greet them with her decisive and energetic grasp.

"Thank me when we have solved it and when we have helped Miki," Sherlock replies, who, as always, goes straight to the point.

"Yes, he wants to say that it's early for thanks," John replies with a smile, feeling the woman's firm resolve that creates a pleasant contrast with her pretty face, with marked but soft features at the same time.

"No, I really wanted to say exactly what I said, because this case I will solve it"  Sherlock adds entering the waiting room without waiting for an answer.

"Yes, he always does that, do not mind, Lieutenant Mendoza" John whispers with a resigned smile "but I admit that he is almost always right, so trust us, we will do the best we can to help him" he adds then continuing to look at her.

"I will keep Dr. Watson in mind" Eleonor answers, appreciating the intellectual honesty of John who, while apologizing for the detective's attitude, emphasizes his abilities, almost taking a back seat to him, without appearing to be a weak person. Indeed to her he seems the exact opposite to tell the truth. Intellectual honesty is a quality that is scarce in most of the men he has known, as well as among his colleagues. When she recognizes it, she appreciate it. She then enters the room and goes to sit in front of Sherlock, who in the meantime has taken place in front of a low table, where he opened the file with the reports and photos that she had sent him.

"So Mr. Holmes, what do you think?" She asks him, resting her elbows on her legs and crossing her hands "it’s clearly a case of voluntary removal of healthy organs, but the reason it was done is to be discovered. That's why we need Miki to help us. Because if it is a case of illicit organ trafficking, we must direct our investigations towards a network of criminals dedicated to this horrible practice. If instead it is a maniac who does it for his pleasure, we must take other directions. In both cases, however, there may be other children in danger," she tells him, summing up her conclusions shortly.

"Why do you think I can help him?" He asks her, nodding to his hypotheses both valid. "What makes you think that he is not really in a catatonic state and that only a psychologist can help him?" Sherlock looks her in the eyes, settling comfortably on the chair and crossing his long legs.

"Because Miki is not catatonic, he is learning," she replies.

"Explain it better, in what sense is he learning?" John asks, taking a chair too.

"John always needs a few words in more, lieutenant, even if sometimes I think he just likes to listen to my deductions even when he already imagines them," Sherlock says with a slight smile "but since you have also deduced the same things apparently, please, I leave the honor to you," he adds.

"Yes, well, I said then that Miki is learning," resumes Eleonor, remaining only for a few moments perplexed, before understanding that the two have a way of understanding each other. Although apparently it seems that Sherlock treats John with superiority, their mutual esteem is quite evident, at least in her eyes.

"Dr. Watson image what it means to grow inside a cell, probably always dark, even if relatively clean, without any contact with the outside world" Eleonor continues talking to both, even if she is addressing John.

"I can’t imagine it, it must be tremendous," John tells her, shaking his head.

"Tremendous, certainly, but not only. Miki knows nothing about the world and life. He never read a book, because he can neither read nor write and did not even know the meaning of these words, until I explained it to him and that look was that of a child who understood. But it's not just this. Miki, although not knowing anything about the world outside his cell, only through the descriptions made by his friend Jimmy, if we must believe him of course, he managed to escape recognizing stairs, doors, keys to open the doors, garden and forest to cross and road to find. And all this overcoming what must have been the sensation, for him, like being immediately catapulted on another planet. Yet he did it and learned quickly, very quickly, considering his age and having lived that way until now. I don’t think at all that he is catatonic, just waiting to speak when he will know what to say and how to explain what are fragments of things he saw but cannot recognize" now she turns to Sherlock "that's why I think you can help him. Your techniques can help him put together the pieces of what he saw and give us a picture or certain clues to move on". She stops talking and now, leaning back in her chair, she crosses her arms on her breasts, waiting for the detective to tell her something.

"It's a gamble, but if the child is smart, as I sensed, there's a chance" and having said that, without adding anything else, he gets up and goes out of the room to Miki's room, followed closely by John and Eleonor.

"Sherlock, please, always remember that he is still just a child," John tells him before he opens the door.

"Children are such if we treat them as children. Treat a child as an adult and he may surprise you," Sherlock answers, watching Miki from the glass of the door.

"It's okay, remember maybe not to do too much with my daughter Rosie then" John adds, raising his eyes to the sky.

Sherlock does not answer any more and, opened the door, he enters the room. Miki is seated at the table, where books and notebooks are still scattered. The notebooks are open on white pages, while pencils and felt-tip pens are tidy on the table and not yet used. The books are closed, though from the shape they have and from the arrangement on the table, Sherlock realizes that they have been opened several times and leafed continuously. Symptom of curiosity and this is a plus point.

"Hi Miki, my name is Sherlock, I'm a detective" he starts talking and then he sits down in front of him on the other side of the table "a detective is a person who understands how to solve problems and help those who need it" he adds looking at him in his only but intense eye. Watchful eye that is storing information. He noticed it immediately as soon as he began to speak entering the room. Miki does not answer but does not look away. Sherlock looks around the clean but essential room, like all the rooms in a hospital. Only a few hanging patterns break the monotony of the white walls.

"I can help you save your friends, but you have to want it, do you want it Miki?" Sherlock asks.

Miki does not say anything, but after a few minutes nods.

"Very well, it will not be easy but we can do it, if you trust me" Sherlock adds.

Miki still does not speak but his gaze has not been lowered or distracted for a moment, as if he were trying to understand him, and after a few minutes he still simply nods.

"Perfect" Sherlock says, looking around again before getting up "If you want to bring something with you take it, we are going to go somewhere else, where we will be more peaceful" he adds finally leaving the room without saying anything else.

"Lieutenant organize the transfer of Miki to my house. Here it is not possible to work, there are too few stimuli, indeed let's say no one, and he needs instead of inputs and stimuli. The address I think you know, it’s 221B Baker Street" he speaks starting to walk down the corridor to the elevators.

"I don’t know if it's a good idea or even if I can get permission," Eleonor tells him, arching an eyebrow.

"You know it's the only feasible idea and you’ll be able to do it, I'm sure," he says as he enters the elevator with John in tow.

"Good morning, lieutenant. See you soon then" John greets as the elevator doors close.

Sherlock turns looking at him.

"It was time, John," he says to him, then returning to look at the numbers of the floors that go downstairs.

"For what? In what sense?" John asks, following his friend out of the elevator.

"Please, John, don’t let me tell you, it's boring whenever I have to explain you something you already know."

John remains silent, stopping in the hall as Sherlock crosses the entrance and goes out into the street. After a few moments he reaches him without saying anything. They get in the car and John starts the engine but does not leave immediately.

Sherlock turns, watching him.

"It's been a long time John. You can’t feel guilty every time a woman likes you. It's time for you to move on," he says smiling.

"Mary would say right now that you're right, you know," he says without looking at him, but with a smile that is not sad when he remembers her.

"Well, then listen to her advice as you always did" Sherlock adds, before the friend with a smile pressed his foot on the accelerator to step away from the hospital.


	9. Chapter 9

**London - Baker Street - 20 July 2018 - 14:00**

For the second time he is on a car, but this time the journey is longer, there is light outside and the car has crossed the city. London, so Eleanor told him that this city is called. He likes Eleonor, she is different from Rachel, the hospital nurse who found him on the street. But he likes Eleonor, he trusts her, he feels safe with her. He has seen many people these days, doctors, nurses, another doctor who has said a lot, but almost always alone, because Miki had nothing to tell him. Other people still asked him questions, many questions, but always the same. Then that different man arrived. That man did not ask questions that he cannot answer. He asked only one question and it was the right one. He also likes that man, Sherlock. He likes him much more than the doctor, who is now sitting in the car next to Eleonor. The doctor always comes to see him and makes strange and funny faces. Yes, he likes Sherlock more, because he promised that he would help him save his friends. Miki believed him, that man has eyes that tell the truth, like those of Jimmy. Now in the car, while thinking about these things, he cannot help but look out the window and is incredibly surprised to see so many people. He did not imagine there were so many people in the world. And the houses, the streets, many cars, even much bigger than the one where he is. Everything is so full of lights, things, noises. So much different from the dark and cold, so full of everything. The car stops and Eleonor and the doctor get out of the car. The back door opens and now he too goes out. They knock at a black door, next to another place with windows and red curtains, from which he can see many people sitting at tables eating, talking, drinking and laughing. Everything is so strange, he has never laughed eating, nor talked a lot. He ate fast, almost always in the dark, then returned to his bed in a corner to wait. Only with Jimmy he could speak and sometimes even laugh. He liked Jimmy and misses him so much. The door opens and there is a woman who looks funny, with a wrinkled face, not as smooth as that of Eleonor. As she sees him, she smiles at him and that smile pleases him. There have never been so many things in such a short time that he liked them in his life, he thinks at that moment while, holding the hand of Eleonor, he enters that house.

"Good morning, I'm Lieutenant Eleonor Mendoza and this is Dr. Arthur Bailey. Sherlock Holmes is waiting for us" Eleonor says as she enters the 221B, followed by the doctor who, she discovered, is a fierce fan of the detective, and when he learned that he would take care of the case, not only made sure that the permission of exit to the child was granted, but insisted to accompany them in person, hurrying the paperwork in less than no time.

"Good morning to you. Yes, Sherlock had warned me," Mrs. Hudson says, closing the door and shaking hands with both of them. Then she looks at the child tenderly "and you must be Miki, John told me about you" she then says, smiling at him, even if Miki does not answer or smile, always remaining with the same expression.

"Well, Sherlock and John are upstairs," then she points to the stairs and waits to see them climb, before returning to her apartment, shaking her head at the thought of what must have passed that poor boy.

At the top of the stairs, Eleonor sees the door open and enters the detective's living room. She had never been there, but she had heard about it several times. Sherlock is seated at the desk with his eyes fixed on the laptop screen. From the kitchen on the left comes a good smell of coffee, that John is preparing, and when the three come in, he comes to meet them.

"Oh, here you are, welcome. It did not take long, I was afraid there would be more obstacles"  John says, smiling as he squeezes the hand of Eleonor and then the doctor who shows up.

"It was Dr. Bailey who had to solve everything. In a flash he made sure that Miki could get out of the hospital" she replies, looking around with a certain curiosity.

"Ah well, very well. I made coffee, if you like it" John then adds back to the kitchen.

Sherlock at that moment detaches his eyes from the laptop that closes before getting up.

"As I told, you would not have had any trouble organizing the transfer," he says to the woman, then laying his gaze on Miki, who is holding her hand, and the doctor who accompanies her. He doesn’t have time to start looking at this man, quite ordinary and commonplace, that the doctor is fast approaching and taking a hand of Sherlock, squeezes it energetically several times.

"Oh God, I can’t believe I'm here and I can finally shake hands with Mr. Holmes. I am one of your greatest admirers," the doctor tells him, with an entranced smile, not paying attention to the perplexed look of Sherlock and his resigned sigh, resulting in a smile of circumstance, as John taught him to do when he finds himself before an exalted fan.

"Yes, yes, thank you doctor" Sherlock says, trying to free his hand from that of him.

"Oh, but you do not have to thank me, it's an honor" Arthur exclaims "I wanted to greet you, when you was convalescing about three months ago, after that unpleasant bad episode, but the duty kept me away... but you have to know... I was part of the team that operated you that night" Arthur continues, without giving way  to Sherlock to wriggle out of his grip, "I did not operate, but as a surgeon I was called to assist and help in case of need. It was a terrible night for everyone, but luckily everything went well and I find you really fit now" he adds finally and only now he decides to let go of his hand.

"Ah, I understand yes. Well, thanks then," Sherlock answers, as the man looks around, until John brings them cups of steaming coffee. Sherlock's attention now finally returns to Miki, who has not moved from Eleonor's side since he entered. The boy, while always seeming to have the same expression, has clearly observed everything around him.

"Well, take your coffee now and go talk to Mrs. Hudson or wherever you want. Miki and I have things to do" and said this, he sits down in his armchair, inviting the child to go and sit on the opposite armchair, usually used by John.

Miki looks at him and without needing anyone to tell him, he leaves Eleonor's hand and goes to sit in the armchair.

Sherlock rests his elbows on his legs, joins his hands and then leans on his chin, in his typical and habitual gesture, and looks at him without saying anything.

Miki remains seated in his armchair and responds to his gaze in the same way.

"Go away, I said, especially you Dr. Bailey, your watch that fast march is to be regulated and deconcentrates me" Sherlock adds, still without looking away from the kid in front of him.

Arthur at the detective's words looks at his watch stunned, already almost would like to say something, perhaps to compliment the man's ability to notice the details, but John interrupts him even before he speaks.

"All right, I would say that our presence is now useless, let's go downstairs. Mrs. Hudson has made cookies and they are very good" John says, inviting Eleonor and Arthur out. The two nod, even if Arthur clearly still would like to remain in that living room, but the good of the child comes first and he also know that they have to let the detective work his way.

Once seen all them coming out and going downstairs, Sherlock gets up from the armchair and closes the door. He then goes back and takes an elegant chessboard, which then settles on a small table between the two armchairs. From a shelf in the bookcase he takes a box and, having returned to sit down, opens it, pulling out chess, finely cut out of wood, with which he occasionally plays with his mother,  when she happens in town with his father. Once placed all, the blacks for themselves, the whites for Miki, he looks up and returns to watch the boy in front. The curiosity in his single eye almost makes it shine.

"This is the chess game, Miki. A game is something that people do to spend time together, having fun but also learning. It's a difficult game, but I'm sure you'll learn it quickly. Now listen to me, I'll explain how to play" Sherlock begins and calmly explains in detail the operation, the rules, the goal. He repeats it three times, then they start playing.

John, Athur, Eleonor and Mrs. Hudson spent at least a couple of hours chatting, drinking coffee first and then tea, and especially eating cookies, that are almost never missing at Hudson's. She used to always keep something sweet at home, because she understood that Sherlock's first symptom of drug abstinence is the craving for sweets. Better a sweet than cocaine, she always says to herself, so cookies and cakes are never lacking, both in her apartment and in Sherlock's house. No noise is heard from upstairs and John decides to go and have a look, encouraged by Eleonor. That woman, John thinks, is really interesting. Strong, intelligent, ambitious certainly, a tough one could say, but he is certain that she is also very sweet inside, even if she does not see it in any way. It is hard for a woman to move forward in a world of men. He moves away from Mrs. Hudson's kitchen and goes upstairs. Slowly he opens the door, unwilling to disturb, and sees Sherlock and Miki engaged in a chess game. He bites his eyes for a moment, thinking that teaching a boy, already so strongly problematic and with no education, such a difficult and mental game, is something that only someone like his friend can think of doing. He approaches, trying not to make noise, to see where the game is. At that moment Miki makes a move and it's a risky move, he too recognizes it.

Sherlock nods slightly.

"It's a good move Miki, but you didn’t take my knight into account. In five moves now I can win" Sherlock tells him and with quick gestures makes a series of moves of his pieces, like those then forced pieces of Miki, coming to checkmate.

Miki does not lose a movement and does not make a fold. It does not seem that losing or winning is different for him.

"Now do as before, close the eye and in your mind repeat every move we have made. Count up to the twelfth move. That's where you were wrong, the bishop must go right towards the pawn and not to the left towards the knight. Do you understand?" Sherlock tells him, without stopping to look at him.

Miki obeys and in his mind he sees every move. He has the chessboard in mind and he is able to see everything again. He doesn’t know how he’s able to do it, to tell the truth, but it’s the fifth time that they do it, and now it's easier than ever to remember the moves. He just mentions a smile when he arrives at the wrong move. He understood now and returns to watch Sherlock.

"Yes I understand. Next time I'm not mistaken" he says without breaking up.

Sherlock mentions a smile.

"There will be many other times when you will be wrong, but I trust you will become a respectable adversary," he says, raising his gaze to John, who is still standing nearby watching them.

"All right downstairs?" He asks as he puts the chess pieces back to their starting positions.

"Are you really teaching him how to play chess?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, of course, why I should not, playing is the best way to learn," he replies quietly.

"Well, maybe you could even choose a less brain-spaced game, maybe more suited to his age" the friend still tells him.

"I learned to play chess when I was six years old, half of his age in practice" Sherlock replies, looking up again at him, "and anyway, Miki for what he has spent is far bigger than his age" finally adds with a shrug.

"Exactly, he could also do something of his age, just to recover what he never had... a childhood" John replies with a sigh.

Sherlock again looks at Miki already focused on chess.

"Don’t worry, I already planned to stop after this game and do other simple things we need. Trust me and come back down. See you in about an hour" Sherlock still responds, returning to focus on chess, because Miki has already started with the first move.

John sighs, not totally convinced, but he knows that when his friend has something in his head, it’s useless to insist. He then returns to his steps and leaves them alone again, going downstairs.

After about an hour John, Arthur and Eleonor go up again to Sherlock’s apartments. They have a time to return to the hospital to be respected and soon they will have to go. John opens the door followed by the other two and this time his friend and the boy are not sitting in the armchair playing, even if the chess is still there on the table. Sherlock's voice comes from the kitchen and they find them both sitting at the table, with two cups of hot chocolate and a bowl of cream in front of them. Miki has an ecstatic expression, as he savors the chocolate with cream, as Sherlock suggested. It is an explosion of flavors that feels in the mouth, but that reaches the brain. He does not remember ever having felt so happy as he is now, as in these hours, spent playing in that house full of interesting things. Between one game and the next, he stopped and looked at a book, on an object, and every time Sherlock explained his nature to him. And now that incredible taste. He would like to jump out of the chair, for the feeling of pleasure he is feeling. Sherlock has prepared that delicious thing, the hot chocolate, making him see how it's done. He learned that fresh foods are kept in the refrigerator, so they do not become ugly, that they light fires to heat the food and many other things that he did not know existed. When he sees Eleonor enter, he smiles happily.

"Chocolate with cream is good," he says, putting down the now empty cup.

Eleonor blinks her eyes for a moment and smiles back.

"Yes, you're right Miki" she replies, happy to hear him speak again. Perhaps we will also succeed in obtaining something else, she thinks, “but we must go now" she adds, approaching the table.

"Just a moment" Sherlock interrupts, before turning back to Miki.

"Miki, before you go, I'd like you to play another little game with me," he says, putting down the empty cup too.

Miki looks at him and nods happily. He likes to play this way.

"Close the eye and remember the chessboard as you did before" he waits to see him obey then continues "now, however, delete the chess and leave only the chessboard in your mind, look at the alternating white and gray colors. Now let your mind become the totally gray chessboard" his voice is deep and quiet and he waits to see a slight sign of Miki's consent before continuing "well, now it's all gray... no color but it's not dark, now I want you to come back to your mind, when you were running to get out of the house, look around and without thinking too much, tell me now the first things you see if you recognize them".

Miki executes the orders and finds himself outside the door that came from below. For a moment the fear is making everything dark, but Sherlock's voice reassures him and he can see him running down the corridor to the door that leads to the outside, to escape. He thinks he cannot see anything else, but he realizes that on his left there is a room, a large room, a kitchen, but much bigger than Sherlock's. He recognizes some objects, before everything disappears from the mind, and opens the eye.

"Refrigerator" he exclaims, rising suddenly and running towards the fridge "like this one, but bigger, much bigger and red" he says, still surprised by what he remembered at that moment. Then he runs back to the table.

"And a table, with many chairs" he still exclaims loudly.

"How many chairs, Miki? Close the eye again and count them, count the chairs" Sherlock tells him while the others, surprised, almost do not breathe, so as not to disturb the moment.

Miki returns to the mind with what he has just remembered and counts the chairs one by one.

"Ten, ten chairs around the table, like this one but bigger," he exclaims, surprised by the details he is remembering.

"And the light, Miki? Was there a light in the house or just an outdoor one?" Sherlock asks again.

"The lights of the house were turned on, it was dark outside," he adds, finally returning to sit down as if he had run away again and again.

"Very well Miki, really. You have been very good" Sherlock tells him, then looking at Eleonor and the others "it must be a big house or a villa outside of London, but in modern style. The large and red refrigerator and the rectangular table with ten seats suggests a kitchen that is neither rustic nor classic. It was evening when he escaped, they were withdrawing the tray with food, as Miki told as soon as they found him, then shortly after nine o'clock, but he was found at dawn. Considering the hours he has been running and his rhythm we have a starting point and a defined radius within which to search" he says with confidence.

Eleonor marks what she has heard on a notebook and nods.

"It's a small point but still a beginning. Well, I would say that for today it can be enough" she then adds, stretching her hand towards Miki, inviting him to get up "don’t worry Miki, tomorrow we'll come back" she says, looking at the expression of the boy, who now seemed sorry.

"Yes Miki, now you have to rest and me too. Playing with you has been very challenging, I have to admit, and tomorrow we have to be in shape" Sherlock tells him, getting up to greet them, trying to avoid getting too close to Arthur, for fear of finding his hand stuck in a greeting too hot for his tastes. The company of Miki is much more stimulating than that of someone like that doctor.

John accompanies them to the door and when he sees them go down, before going out too, he stops for a moment to look at his friend.

"Everything good? I see you a bit tired," he says in a vaguely ironic tone.

"I was not joking when I said it was very challenging. It's not easy for me to try to empathize with another person, you know, it’s much difficult with a child," he replies with a sigh.

"Yes I know, but apparently you're doing it very well, I have to admit," John tells him.

"If we want to help him and the other children, wherever and with whomever they are, I have to do my best" Sherlock adds, before greeting his friend.

John nods, giving him reason, then closes the door behind him and went down the stairs. He accompanies the three to their car, watches them go, and then he leaves Baker Street too. His daughter is waiting for him and he cannot wait to hug her tightly.

Sherlock, left alone, looks out the window, waiting to see everyone go away. Then he picks up the phone and dials the number of Irene, who answers after a few rings.

"Hi, are you busy?... It went quite well, I would say. If you like, when you're done, I'll reach you and I'll tell you everything... yes of course...  I have your keys you know" he smiles, closing the phone and with a sigh, already more intimately serene, goes to the bathroom to take a shower before going out. Now he feels the need to tell her everything, and knows that she will listen to him.


	10. Chapter 10

**London - Saint Bart Hospital - 21 July 2018 - 12.00 a.m.**

Molly Hooper stands in front of one of her laboratory machines, waiting for a result that she hopes will help them. The thought that there may be children in danger and that their salvation also depends on her work, puts her so anxious that for a moment she struggle to breathe. Most of her work takes place when a death has already occurred and, although she may help to prevent others, it is rare that she finds herself in such a critical situation. Perhaps, because it’s about children and this thing particularly affects her. Rosie, John's daughter, comes to her mind, and a shiver of fear runs through her. If Rosie were among those children, anxiety would probably paralyze her. She looks up at her friend whose daughter is now all that remains of Mary and hopes with all her heart that nothing ever happens to her.

John is sitting on one side of the table on a stool. In front of the laptop he is studying all the villas and isolated houses of modern style around London in a precise radius of kilometers from where Miki was found, as indicated by Sherlock. Unfortunately, they are much more than they hoped for and knocking on every door, without a precise clue, would alarm those they are looking for. It could be the end for children still held captive and none of them want to risk it.

This is why Molly's analysis of Miki's clothes is fundamental to hope to delimit the research. Unfortunately, no one thought to detect evidence from under the child's feet when he was found, which would greatly simplify their work.

Sherlock, on the other side of the table compared to John, is analyzing the remains of leaves under a microscope, but even those seem to say little. Rather common and in that area are scattered almost everywhere. Each of them is so absorbed in his work and his thoughts that the laboratory is immersed in total silence.

Suddenly the sound of the door that opens up almost makes them jump as if it were an explosion and not a simple creak. Irene appears at the door and looks at them, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I knew I was scared, but I believed that the three of you were immune to it," she says with an ironic tone, entering the room and closing the door behind him.

"We were so caught up that you scared us, actually," Molly tells her, chuckling before returning to look at the machine that almost finished her job.

"Hi Irene, well arrived," John says, thinking that, like his friend, she also always loves to make an impact entrance.

"Why are you here? I thought you had a commitment this morning" Sherlock asks, watching her approach.

"In fact I had it. A person I had not seen in a long time. He has recently returned to London. He wanted to talk to me, but it was not just to say hello," she says, approaching the stool, where he remains seated, while she extracts a piece of paper from her bag.  
"It's a list of people who have had a transplant, but do not have a real track. They cannot be accused of anything, because they claim to have been operated in countries where there is no database and therefore not verifiable. He is a surgeon and is certain that it is organ trafficking," Irene explains, handing the list in his hands now.

"And why did he give you this list?" Sherlock asks, as he begins to read a series of names with age, the relative organ transplanted and the probable date of the operation.

"Because he's an important person in my life. He heard about Miki's case and you're dealing with it. He knows about us obviously and so he wanted to help to stop these criminals," Irene replies, looking at Sherlock, who does not seem to change his expression as he keeps reading the names on that list.

"I see, well thank him from me, then" he adds simply looking up at her "and thanks to you of course. Now we can say that who we are looking for, is dedicated to the trafficking of organs and we can give a more precise direction to the investigations" he says, looking into her eyes.

John looks at them from the other side of the table and does not miss the way she, in some way, is again challenging and provoking him. Those two, he thinks, can be exhausting in the eyes of the observer, but apparently, they never get tired.

"Why do you think this is organ trafficking? In the sense that it is not said that those transplants are connected to Miki" John intervenes, trying to bring attention to the case.

"Because in this list there is a child more or less the age of Miki who had an eye transplant. I'd say it's a good clue," Sherlock replies, without looking away from Irene standing next to him.

"Well, I will report the message then. Now I go, because I have customers in the afternoon. Reach me tonight," Irene says, with her particular smile and then bow down and greet him with a light kiss "good job to all and good luck" she adds, taking her bag to start towards the exit.

"See you later," Sherlock replies, when he sees her out before returning to look at that list in his hand.

Molly has now finished her analysis and brings the result to the table with a not particularly satisfied expression. Even those results are not indicative of materials of a specific area unfortunately. She looks at her friend, who has now returned to observe the leaves under a microscope.

"But it does not bother you?" she asks without preamble.

"What exactly should it bother me?" Sherlock asks in turn, looking up puzzled on her.

"In short, what she does with her clients, can you not care? Are not you even a little jealous?" She asked again, a question that had been buzzing in her head for a long time and that she had not yet had the courage to do.

"Jealousy denotes insecurity and will to possess. You do not own people," Sherlock replies, returning to look in the microscope, "and anyway, I do not see what I should ever be jealous of. None of them can even have a crumb of what I have" he adds in a calm and sure voice.

"Not even this important person in her life?" John intervenes across the table, looking at him with a vaguely sarcastic smile.

Sherlock does not respond and does not even react, even if an imperceptible blink of an eyeliner suggests that the question did not fall on deaf ears.

"We have children to save, let's focus on this" he always says in the same calm tone, making it clear that the speech is closed for him. From that moment everyone returns to their work and silence again fills the laboratory.


	11. Chapter 11

**London - police station - homicide section - 21 July 2018 - 2.00 pm**

When he is in his office, Greg Lestrade feels he is always in charge of the situation. As an inspector, he is the highest grade in that section because his superiors are all on another level. There, sitting at his desk, he knows that the most important decisions have to pass before him and, although it is a considerable responsibility, it is precisely what makes him feel he is in control. But not today, not when his friend detective is in his office. Those are the moments when he knows he has to give up control. Not because he feels in trouble, but because over the years he has learned to follow the intuitions and deductions of his friend, which are almost never wrong. But this does not prevent him, as now, from wanting to punch him. Sherlock has practically read a few files, that he has studied for hours, and has dismissed them as useless.

"For what reason are they useless?" Greg now asks him, sitting behind his desk, while his eyes are looking for support from John and Eleonor, standing on the other side behind Sherlock, who is seated in front of him.

"For the simple reason that these criminal gangs are too mundane and disorganized to put on a long-running organ trafficking network, without anyone being able to fit them," Sherlock replies crossing his legs "if it had not been the escape of Miki, which is certainly an unpredictable fact, we would not be here to talk about it, so now, does anyone in Scotland Yard know the difference between criminal gang and organized crime?" he finally asks, sighing.

"We cannot exclude anything Sherlock" Eleonor intervenes "I understand your point, but Greg did not make a mistake to study all the bands that could have made a qualitative leap" she then concludes calmly and not at all on the defensive, despite the detective's words would have this effect on almost all the agents and officials of that building.

"Okay, I understand the point of view, but it's wrong. Now give me the serious files and do not waste any more time," Sherlock adds, turning only a moment to this woman whose strong and decisive character surely appreciates.

"Here they are, I left them last," Greg tells him, taking three files on three very well organized criminal groups that could have implemented a "business" of this kind.

Sherlock takes the three files and carefully studies them. He discards one of them after a while and stays to watch the two remained, opening them on the desk.

John looks behind him. Both are criminal groups dedicated to trafficking in arms and drugs at high levels. The main components are known, but no concrete evidence so far to be able to frame them. Only circumstantial evidence and hypothesis. Occasionally some small fish fell into the net but nothing else. At one point John indicates one of the two files.

"These countries where this band operates, these are countries that do not have shared medical records... Some patients on that list that Irene gave us say they have been operated abroad in such countries, maybe it's stupid and just a coincidence, but it can be a point to deepen," John says.

"Very well John, really, I had already noticed it, of course, but the fact that you have arrived alone, makes me proud" Sherlock tells him, closing a file that ends up in the pile of useless and giving the other to Greg.

"Oh thank you, Sherlock is really too good, you move me when you talk to me like that," John answers, with an ironic tone.

"Don’t do it, we don’t have time for these things" the friend tells him, with the same ironic tone, standing up.

"You are the most unbearable man on earth... after your brother Mycroft" John adds, sighing and sees Greg nod as if to agree with him.

"I know, but you will continue to endure me if we want to get results. Now let's go because Miki is waiting for us" Sherlock answers going to the door "Greg, look for more information about that organization and put several men in the field to follow them. They are certainly involved," he finally says, before disappearing into the hallway followed by John.

Eleonor watches Greg immediately begin to study the file while he already takes the phone to call someone.

"But really, can you explain what the trick is?" she asks.

"What trick?" Greg asks in turn.

"How do he convince everyone around him not to slap him and follow him? Because I would have liked to do so, but for God sake, now I will run after him," Eleonor says, with an expression almost puzzled.

"Ah well, welcome to the club, I've been trying to figure it out, but I have not succeeded yet, I've speculated that we're drunk somehow without realizing it, but it's better that you get used to it, because it will be more or less always like that" Greg answers, with a shrug and a resigned smile "but I also tell you that that man would cut off an arm to help a friend or an innocent in trouble" he finally adds, with a wink before calling the sergeant to start organizing a tracking team.

Eleonor nods and smiles in a way that softens her face for a moment. Then she also leaves the office and literally runs to reach the two who are already outside the building waiting for her.


	12. Chapter 12

**London - Baker Street - 21 July 2018 - 4.00 p.m.**

Music is an incredible thing. A sound that fills your heart and your head. So many sounds that together make you fly with images and thoughts. No one thing had ever made him feel like music does. He did not even know what that word meant, until Sherlock explained it to him. This is even more beautiful than the game of chess and as exciting as the chocolate with cream, but with something more. Peace, calm inside, the heart that beats slowly and the breath becomes calm while listening to it, lying on the ground next to Sherlock. He says that lying on the ground is more beautiful and is right. Just close his eyes, his only eye, and listen. He now seems to feel the scent of trees and wet grass as he runs towards the street, that music reminds him of it. He has been listening to musice for hours and each one is different from the previous one. Classical, Jazz, Blues and even modern. Sherlock only explained the differences between one genre and another and the names of the authors, but did not say anything else.

"Because music" he told him "you have to feel it inside and it must become yours. It does not matter what the person who wrote it thought, but only what do you think when you listen to it and what images come to your mind at that moment".

Sherlock with eyes closed listen to this piece of Vivaldi, simple in the classical music scene, but always of great impact.

Since they went to pick up Miki at the hospital, he does nothing but satisfy all the natural curiosity of the boy, who lack almost eleven years of knowledge of the world and devours everything Sherlock says to him with a surprising intellectual voracity. This child particularly fascinates him. On the one hand, he knows, he feels involved because of that distant assonance with his childhood friend, but now that he is aware, he feels that the thirst for knowledge of Miki, combined with a remarkable perspicacity, is for him an incredible magnet. But it is not only what amazes him. He is actually mostly surprised by how he finds himself rewarding to transfer his knowledge to someone else. With John he always enjoyed explaining how he got to his deductions, but it's not the same thing. John is an adult man and does not really need his explanations. It's just a game between them that stimulates his ego. No, with Miki it's different. There is no complacency in showing one's own abilities and knowledge, but only pleasure in seeing in the boy's eyes the understanding growing. Vivaldi's piece ends and Sherlock puts aside these thoughts in which he lingered in the last few minutes. He opens his eyes and turning to Miki still sees him taken by the feelings that the music must have stimulated in him.

"Miki I want to try and make a new game in your mind of memories. As we did after the chess games," he says in a calm and quiet voice, and when he sees Miki simply nodding, he continues, "the sounds are as important as the pictures you know, they can tell us so many things. I want you to come back to the same point again. When you were running towards the door that led out" Miki still nods "you saw it was night, there were lights on in the kitchen, there was a big red fridge and a table with ten chairs. You're going to the door. Now, tell me if you see anything else and what you feel. Forget your breath and the beats of your heart, focus only on sounds outside of you."

Miki listens to Sherlock's voice carefully, it's like music that accompanies him back to that house but that makes him feel safe. The fear does not cloud the memories and he found himself in that corridor. He sees the kitchen again, sees the door at the back from where he will come out. The rest of the house is dark, but as he runs to the right from the corner of the eye, something glitters, a sparkle, does not quite know what it is and even hears a sound. He cannot recognize it but feels it distinctly.  He opens the eye, when everything comes back dark and silent in his mind.

"Something shimmering, I saw something glistening in the dark, but it was not a light, and I heard a noise as I ran, like a little metallic heart that went fast" he speaks in one breath not even knowing what it means "it does not mean anything, right?" he asks now, turning to Sherlock and almost fearing that he has disappointed him.

Sherlock looks at him absorbed, his gray eyes now go in the blue and are of a particular intensity. He remains in the same expression for a few minutes without speaking and then suddenly smiles at him.

"On the contrary Miki... it means everything" he says and suddenly gets up "I think it's time for our chocolate, but do not tell Eleonor and others. We play the game of sounds for us" he says winking at him and after helping him get up, they head towards the kitchen together.


	13. Chapter 13

**London - 44 Eaton Square - 21 July 2018 - 7.00 p.m.**

There is still light at this time in this period and on Eaton Square the elegant street lamps have not yet turned on. Sherlock's car stops in front of Irene's luxurious home and he drops shortly thereafter. He climbs the stairs of the large colonial style portico and inserts the keys to open the door. He has had those keys since they met many years ago and had secretly copied them, certainly not thinking that he would use them to enter and leave, as if it were his own home. Irene prefers that he uses them, rather than knocking, because it often happens that he arrives when she still has customers. Sherlock never minds this, it's a part of Irene's life that does not bother him or intrigue him. It's an integral part of her and he likes Irene that way. When it happens to arrive and see that the door to the floor above that room is closed, he simply goes into the living room and works on the pc, or sometimes goes directly into the master bedroom, to wait for her if it's late. Entering today, he already sees from the atrium that the upstairs room is open, so she is not busy. He closes the front door and takes off the jacket leaving it on a chair. From the living room he now hears Irene's voice talking to someone and laughing. Sherlock arches an eyebrow. It is not something that often happens, rarely he hears her laugh so freely and generally she does so only with him. A male voice joins that of Irene, a deep voice with a clearly confidential and intimate tone.

Sherlock then approaches the living room and when he arrives on the threshold he sees Irene sitting in an armchair talking to a man, sitting there beside her on the sofa. In a second, as usual, he observes the details. The man has more or less his same age, perhaps a few years older. Good-looking, physique dry and snappy but not exalted. A man who does regular exercise and keeps fit but with balance. He has dark hair cut short, his features beautiful and determined, dark blue eyes. Dress elegantly and tastefully, the tailor's clothes and the watch are those of a well-to-do man, a man of success probably, from the security with which he speaks and moves. But Sherlock's interest in this man ends here, because Irene's confidential and intimate attitude, affects him much more and he  studies every nuance of her smile, gaze, body movements, until she sees him and say hello.

"Oh there you are, we are waiting for you" she says smiling at him "I introduce you to Alexander Hall, he gave us that list of names that I brought you to the laboratory today" she says pointing at the man sitting on the couch, who stands up to meet him.

"Mr. Holmes is a real pleasure to meet you. Irene has told me a lot about you, but you fame is known everywhere, believe me" he tells him, approaching with a smile sincere and sincere, while he lends a hand to greet him.

Sherlock looks at him for a few moments, keeping his hands in his pockets, then with a slight smile, he extends his hand too.

"My pleasure Mr. Hall, unfortunately I am afraid I cannot reciprocate in the same way, because Irene has never spoken to me about you until this morning" he says, squeezing his hand in a firm grip.

The two look at each other for a long time as if they were studying, continuing to shake hands in an ever more energetic grip.

"Anyway, thank you for the list you gave us, it was very useful to investigate" Sherlock adds finally, deciding to leave his hand.

Alexander Hall does not seem to be disturbed by Sherlock's detached attitude, but when he turns to Irene he looks at her as if he wants to ask her something. Then, as if he understood only by one of her gaze, he casually returns to sit on the sofa.

Sherlock waits a few moments, then also sits down on the same sofa.

Irene looks at them both now, one next to the other, two men really different from each other, but equally beautiful and fascinating, even if each one in his own way.

"I have not told you about Alex yet, because there has not been an opportunity before, and I did not know when or when I would see him again. He is like a meteor, he appears and disappears from my life forever" Irene explains, observing Sherlock, as if she wanted to catch every little reaction to her words.

"Well, I think you'll have me for a while, I'm going to stay in London for a long time. I have a medical research project that will take me a long time and only here I can carry it out without stopping working," Alex tells her, smiling at her with an accomplice expression that does not escape Sherlock, even if he still does not manage to frame it.

"Oh, but you know, I like having you close to me, in fact it was time for you to stay still for a while in the same place," she says in the same tone.

"Yes, my nomadic soul with age is becoming weaker, I'll end up taking root sooner or later, but I hope it's not too soon" Alex adds, winking and getting up from the couch "but now I have to leave you, I have an important business dinner and I would not like to be late".

"Try not to disappear now that you're here" Irene tells him, without getting up while he bends over her and takes her hand holding in his to kiss it.

"You know that if I'm in the neighborhood, I can’t stay away from you," he adds with a kind and affectionate tone, but that could also look seductive.

"Goodbye Mr. Holmes, I think we'll meet again. Maybe we can even exchange two words next time, it could be interesting," Alex says with a nod of the head to Sherlock, who has not moved from the couch since he sat down or seems to want to do now.

"An interesting dialogue is a rather rare event for me," he answers at first. Then he seems to reflect on something and he responds to the greeting with a nod of his head "good evening Mr. Hall" he tells him in a courteous tone albeit detached.

Irene looks at both of them and watches Alex leave the hall. She waits to hear him open the front door and close it, then turns to Sherlock and crosses his gaze. For a few minutes they simply remain like that. They can say many things just by looking at each other.

"Do you know him for long?" Sherlock asks with apparent detachment.

"We could say, by always" Irene answers in the same tone.

"It seems you have a special bond," he tells her, without showing any emotion about it.

"Yes it is, it is a very strong bond... does it create problems to you?" she then asks in a direct way.

Sherlock does not answer immediately, trying to understand this strange feeling of uneasiness that he is trying and that he absolutely wants to get away from himself.

"If even it is a problem, it would not change anything, you decide for your life and who tighten ties" he answers after having pondered for a long time.

Irene looks at him with a serious expression before smiling again.

"You are jealous," she says confidently.

"If to be jealous you mean that it disturbs me to think there is someone else special in your life, yes, then I have to admit that I am. But you'll ever see me making ridiculous scenes of jealousy. I will never ask you to see or not see anyone or what you do when you're not with me. You decide who you want to spend your time with," he replies, with the same apparent calm tone.

Irene still looks at him and now a slight laugh escapes her.

"Oh Jesus, you can be sexy in this too. But now enough, I can’t continue to keep you on your toes," she says getting up and going to the sofa approaching him sitting on him astride "Alex is my brother" she finally says, choking a giggle in a kiss.

Sherlock answers the kiss by placing his hands on her back and then looks at her in surprise before raising his eyes to the sky.

"Oh, but how did I fail to understand it?" He exclaims, literally, surprised at how the details, resemblance, the same natural feline elegance have escaped, the same eyes "half-brother probably, same mother but different father" he adds, now thinking about details that do not he had noticed, because he was distracted by her attitudes rather than by his details.

Irene nods and cannot stop laughing and kissing him at the same time.

"It was stronger than me, it was too much fun to see your reactions even if you tried to hide them in every way," she tells him again.

"Okay you won this game I admit it, but it will not happen many other times believe me" Sherlock tells her and with a more intense kiss, he runs his hands on her back to the buttocks, squeezes her to himself and decides that the moment is over to speak.


	14. Chapter 14

**London - Baker Street - 22 July 2018 - 11.00 a.m.**  
  
Mycroft Holmes sighs again, looking at the elegant watch once again. Sitting in Sherlock's chair, he's been waiting for him for too long. He was sure to find him at home this morning, when he showed up without warning because he did not answer the phone, because his GPS indicated 221B. Too bad that Sherlock had left his phone at home, without bothering to take it with him. Lately knowing something about him has become increasingly difficult. John is resisting and does not inform him of his movements anymore. He almost never responds to his phone calls or messages, unless he has something to say to him to somehow irritate. And it cannot always continue to use the means of government to keep him under control. But he has always worried about him, obsessively sometimes and perhaps even unjustified, but often rightly so, because his little brother can hardly ever stay away from trouble. For him the adventures, the cases he faces and the risks that come with it are a drug. And it's always better than the real drug, so preventing it would be counterproductive. But he cannot lose sight of him for more than a few hours. This is what he thinks, since he arrived at his house this morning and know, as he now reported John almost moved to pity against him, that he is with Irene, does not reassure him at all. He continues to think that the relationship is bad for him and that sooner or later he could pay a bitter price. Because despite appearances, he knows him well and knows how many and which fragilities there have always been hidden in him. It is also true, he admits every now and then with himself, that perhaps Sherlock has learned to manage his emotions and feelings better than he himself is able to do, in fact not doing because he avoids them and keeps them away from his life totally or almost. His only emotion is this sense of innate protection towards his younger brother. Now, sitting in Sherlock's favorite chair, he is watching this kid that his brother has decided to help. Miki is sitting on the carpet with Rosie. His eye is alert, curious, amused, but with a seriousness uncommon for those of his age. Mycroft immediately understood why Sherlock accepted the case, but does not understand at all why he continues to let him come to his house, when he has everything he needs in the hospital. On the other side of the room, Eleonor and John, sitting on the sofa, speak while they drink tea brought by Mrs. Hudson. There is an understanding between the two, he perceives it and finds it ironic that John is always attracted by women so strong and determined. But at least this time it is not a threat, he reflects to himself. Noises of steps climbing the stairs announce the arrival of someone and shortly after Sherlock appears on the door.

"Good morning everyone... Mycroft" Sherlock greets entering, resting the jacket on a chair "you know I cannot stand when you use my chair" he says approaching "know that when you used it then deconcentrates me" he adds with the ironic tone that always use with him.  
"At best it should help you use your brain better, but we know both of your limits so do not expect more" answers Mycroft getting up from the chair "could you sometimes bring the phone with you? So if I have something to say to you I'm not forced to come here and not find you then" he says with that sarcastic smile that makes him so irritating in everyone's eyes.  
"If you had something urgent to say you could call on that of Irene, you know where I was," Sherlock adds without breaking down, now approaching Miki who has been watching him since he entered.  
"I have no intention of doing that, rather than collapse the country," Mycroft replies, causing Sherlock to smile amused, but he cannot see because he is giving him his back.  
"So, what did you have so urgently to tell me?" He asks without turning around.  
"It's a message from Mom," Mycroft replies, and looks strangely uncomfortable.  
"And why does not she tell me directly?" Sherlock asks him now, turning to his brother.

"Probably because she imagines the answer, but apparently does not accept a negative answer or at least does not want to hear it" Mycroft replies sighing.  
"All right... shoot... I'm listening," Sherlock finally tells him.  
"She's planning a lunch to celebrate your recovery and dad's birthday too. She wants you all," Mycroft says.  
"I do not understand why she had to send you to ask me. If we do not find ourselves in the middle of a case we will surely be", Sherlock tells him, turning a puzzled look towards John. It is not the first time that everyone goes to his parent’s home for some occasion or a simple lunch.  
"Maybe I did not explain well... when I say all, I mean that your mother has explicitly asked for her presence" Mycroft adds and in the direction of pointing towards the chest of Sherlock where, under the shirt, it can be seen the medal that Irene gave to him and from which he never separates himself. Sherlock arches an eyebrow at first John and then Mycroft and then laughs, which is definitely unusual for him.  
"You are crazy, there will never be... and I'm not going to ask her, she could also have unpleasant reactions, or maybe even pleasant but very painful," Sherlock replies, laughing and coming back serious.  
"Well, I reported the message. Know that your mother does not accept a no, you see which of the two women is better to face or how you can get out," Mycroft says now taking the door "ah... if I can give you some advice... careful not to burn, little brother" He adds, pointing to Miki before leaving, while with one hand he greets the others.

Sherlock remains for a few moments, looking at the door where his brother left, then he turns his gaze on John and Eleonor, who from the sofa in silence have witnessed the exchange between the two.  
"I think your brother gave you a nice hot potato this time, my friend" John tells him with an amused smile.

"Yes, probable, but at the moment we have other things to think about" he replies, turning once again to Miki. He looks at him wondering what he really meant to understand his brother with the risk of burning, but then clears the thought with a shrug.  
"So Miki, today I did a little late because I went to get you a present" he tells him as he approaches the carpet, where he and Rosie are seated. Bending over, he reaches out to caress the girl's little blond head, intent on playing with a puppet, and observes Miki's gaze, which is now illuminated. Nobody ever gave him a present, but he knows what that means, Jimmy told him. Sherlock takes a black pirate patch from his pants pocket. Miki is wearing a simple white hospital bandage, since they gave it to the hospital to hide his nonexistent left eye. But this bandage is very beautiful, has the part that goes on the eye a bit stiff, so that it does not rub. Beautiful, elegant and comfortable laces. Sherlock hands it to him without saying anything and Miki looks at it. Now he knows what a pirate is, he explained to him in the last few days, showing him drawings and photos, telling the deeds of some of them. And when he sees that bandage he smiles happily, as if it were the most beautiful gift in the world. He takes it and in a moment he takes off the white one from the hospital and replaces it with this new one.  
"Hei Miki, now that you are a real pirate" John tells him that he stood up with Eleonor approaching.  
"Really Miki, you will make a slaughter of hearts so you'll see," Eleonor adds smiling.  
"It's definitely good for you. Always use this time, the other we can throw it" Sherlock tells him, taking the old bandage before getting up to go to the kitchen.  
"Thank you, I like it so much, I will never take it off," Miki tells him, watching him get up. It would mean something else, do something but do not know what. He is not used to all this and it seems to him that emotions are so strong that they almost paralyze him.  
"Well, friends. Now Miki and I have chess games to finish and we need concentration. If you come back in a couple of hours we can prepare the chocolate together, I think Rosie would like it as much as we two" Sherlock says, returning to the living room and going to take the board starts to place it on the table between the two armchairs.

John, taking Rosie in his arms, walks towards the door.  
"I think we would love the chocolate and not only Rosie, so I hope you have enough" he says to his friend before leaving.  
"Oh there's nothing to fear about this. Mrs. Hudson fills my cupboard with sweets. Sooner or later I should tell her that it is not the desserts that keep me away from drugs, but I think I'll let her believe another," he replies with a smile, greeting then also Eleonor who follows him. Left alone the two sit on their seats and Sherlock looks at Miki with his new black bandage.  
"Well, Captain Miki, today I'll teach you an important move. It is called the scholar’s mate. If you learn it well you will be able to win many games when you are faced with non-expert players" he says before lifting the first piece and already knows that Miki will learn it in a short time.


	15. Chapter 15

**London - Wellington Hospital South - 23 July 2018 - 12.00 a.m.**  
  
Dr. Arthur Bailey is the most valued pediatric surgeon in the hospital where he works. Perhaps because, unlike others, he does not transform his skills into arrogance and conceit. Having to deal with children leads you to have a different, more empathetic, less constructed attitude. And this attitude also keeps him with adults in general. He never managed to make a career, the role of primary still remains a dream for him, and sometimes he wonders if it does not depend precisely on this way of doing simple, many considered also trivial. Certainly, he cannot change at his age and so he gave up that dream for a long time, dedicating himself exclusively to completing the difficult operations he often faces. Sitting in his car, parked in the place reserved for doctors in the underground garage, about ten minutes he is reflecting on how to act now. The detective's phone call in the morning has partly surprised him, but only partially. He figured that sooner or later that man would finish his work with Miki, but he did not expect it to happen so quickly. Now having to tell that kid who would not go to Sherlock, would not have been easy, because Arthur understood how Miki linked himself to that strange detective. With the hand drums on the steering wheel, he knows what he has to do, the picture is clear and the decision already taken hours before, but it is not for this reason that it is less difficult now to start everything. Finally, he decides and, open the door, he leaves the car and enters the elevator that leads directly to the floors. Arrived at the floor of the pediatric ward he goes out into the corridor, greeting the doctors and the nurses he meets. In front of Miki's room, he stops and looks at him from the glass of the door. Miki is standing there, sitting at the table, wearing the black bandage that has been donated and waiting for someone to come for him. Arthur opens the door and smiling enters.

"So Miki, are you ready?"  
"Eleonor is not there?" the boy asks, looking up at him.  
"No, today I'll take you there. Come on, they're waiting for us," he says, stretching out his hand to invite him to get up.

Miki looks at him for a moment, perplexed. Then without saying anything, he gets up and, taking his hand, he lets himself be taken out of the room. The elevator closes with only two of them inside and goes down to the basement. Still in silence Miki gets carried up to the car where Arthur, making him sit on the side of the passenger, fastens his belt well before going up and leaving. Miki looks around, he likes to look out the window. Every day he sees something new, because there are so many things to see. He recognizes some of them, he has learned the road that leads to the house of Sherlock, because he has reminiscent of cafes, flower shops, bookstores or simply a painted wall, where the car must turn every time. And just for this, after a while, he understands that they are not going to Sherlock's house. This is a different road and does not go to the city with all its buildings.  
"Where are we going?" He asks, turning to Arthur.  
"We are going to a different home, Miki. Sherlock wants a new house," Arthur replies, continuing to drive. Miki looks at him, his single eye staring at him with such intensity that he seems to want to read him inside. But he says nothing and after a while he returns to look out the window. The journey is quite long but after about an hour the car leaves the main road taking a secondary road on the right that goes into the bush. After about half an hour the car still turns right into an even smaller and more bumpy road. Miki is always silent and observes everything, every tree, every plant. Another twenty minutes of travel and finally an isolated house appears in front of them. An open gate allows access to the private drive to the entrance. The car stops and Arthur turns off the engine.  
"Here we are Miki... welcome back home," he says turning to him. Arthur now has a different smile from those he saw him do in the hospital, and even this smile, like the others, he does not like. And now he also knows why.

 

In the cellars of the villa, where five cells have been set up, a man is setting up an empty one and is now ready to welcome his guest. Jack Fulton observes it in detail, chewing a cigarette as his habit. The very short blond hair reflects the strong neon light that, for those used to being almost always in the dark, becomes blinding if suddenly switched on. With his right hand he touches the gun in his trouser belt. If he had had that day, he might have managed to shoot that damn kid before he escaped, putting everything at risk. But until now he had been absolutely forbidden. They serve healthy, you cannot even touch them. Today, however, he will have his revenge and can finally make him pay, because he has risked big with the big leaders for this escape and only by now remedying the error can avoid the worst. The sound of a car stopping in the courtyard attracts his attention and with a smile that looks more like a grimace, he closes the light of the cell and goes up the stairs. Arrived in the corridor, he closes the door behind him and goes to wait in the living room, to the left of the entrance, already looking forward to the moment when he can take revenge for the poor figure that the kid made him do.

 

Arthur gets out of the car and rushes around it, then he opens the passenger door. He takes Miki's belt off, standing still and watching him, and takes him by the arm to get him down. Miki does not protest or resist. Although it seems clear that he recognized the house where he was a prisoner, he passively lets himself be led to the front door. Arthur expected him to try to escape but, perhaps out of shock, Miki looks strangely calm.  
"Miki you will have understood that here there will not be Sherlock nor any of your new friends. I'm sorry but it was getting too dangerous, you started to remember too many details and we could not risk it any further. You have to understand that, with your escape, you have put the lives of so many boys and girls, who need you to live, in danger. I basically do nothing but help them and you are a necessary sacrifice" he says opening the door and entering with him without leaving his arm.  
"They will look for me" Miki replies with calm and confidence.  
"No dear boy, nobody will try, believe me. For the simple reason that everyone will believe you're dead. In a bad traffic accident, while I was taking you to a shelter for minors. You know it's things that happen, "Arthur tells him with a faintly sorry tone that almost shivers.

Miki looks at him, he has not quite understood what Arthur says and he was about to answer, when he sees another man in the living room where they are now. A tall man, big, blond and with a bad look. He recognizes in him immediately the bad man who had left locked in his cell and in a moment the fear returns suddenly. He closes his eyes, breathes deeply as Sherlock has taught him, he feels the music in his head, and suddenly the fear begins to fade. He reopens the eye and now he looks at that man with an almost defiant look. He no longer wants to be afraid.  
"Well, I see you remember our friend Jack. Now he will take care of you," Arthur says, leaving Miki's arm to push him towards the man. Jack takes the gun in his belt and reaches for Miki. He does not intend to shoot him, because he must have the traumas of an accident, but it serves as a deterrent and as a precaution. He gets hurt he has permission to shoot and will implement a different solution, burning a car with the corpse of another child and a man who can go to the doctor. Plan B is always necessary and their leaders have thought of everything. But sacrificing another child would be a pity so now he just has to keep him at bay, take him downstairs to the cell and provoke the traumas necessary to kill him. At that point organizing the fake accident, leaving the doctor alive but injured, would have been child's play. Then he stretches the left hand to take Miki by the arm, while holding the gun in the right, but the moment he approaches, he feels a sudden blow and a throbbing pain in his wrist that holds the gun. The weapon flies a few meters away and ends up under the table in the living room, while an arm takes him by the neck and starts to tighten so hard that he immediately misses his breath. With his hands he tries to wriggle, but his grip is strong and then he starts kicking, but he feels himself pushing hard against a wall and a hand from behind makes him hit him violently with his head several times, until it becomes all dark.

Sherlock drops Jack's body without worrying if he simply fainted or died from the blows. He turns immediately towards Miki, who is still standing a few steps away from him and sees Arthur with a surprised and bewildered look of surprise.  
"Miki get out of here" he says, approaching Arthur with the intention of going to the table to recover the gun that fell during the fight. Miki obeys and moves towards the entrance, but he does not leave too much. Arthur soon recovers and, when he senses where the detective wants to arrive, he takes a gun from a drawer of a nearby cabinet. He has never used one, but there is always a first time and he cannot allow all the work done in these years to be lost. He points at Sherlock and beckons him not to move.  
"You really are an incredible man, Sherlock Holmes. I was very careful not to follow me. I just cannot understand how you managed to find us" he asks in an uncertain voice, but also full of anger.

Sherlock stops a few steps from Arthur and watches him carefully studying the sweating, the yeast trembling of an eyelid, the irregular breathing. With tranquility, he begins to walk slowly in the living room, moving away from the table, where the gun is lying down, in order to reassure him. He approaches a chessboard placed on a sideboard and mentions a smile. Arthur does not lose a movement of Sherlock and follows him only a few steps, without getting too close, but always keeping him under target.  
"Do you know the chess game Dr. Bailey?" Sherlock asks.  
"I… what? What is this question? No, I do not know it and I do not care to play right now. I just want to know how the hell you did to find me, just out of curiosity before shooting you. It means that we will implement a plan C, in which there will also be another victim of the incident" Arthur answers, starting to get nervous.

"I will answer your question, do not worry Dr. Bailey. I explain how I found you with a chess move. It's called the scholar’s mate and consists of a checkmate in the opening in four moves" Sherlock moves a few more steps stopping near a cupboard from where he takes a teapot that seems to attract his attention.  
"Put it down and do not think to pull me something, because I'm ready to shoot immediately" Arthur's voice seems firmer now "then, I'm curious, we hear this chess move" he adds, realizing that he is letting him talk just to find the dare to pull the trigger.  
"It seems that the name of this move derives from the fact that the action of the Woman and the Bishop acts like a scissors" Sherlock puts down the cup and turns to Bailey.  
"First move, Irene gave me the certainty that it was organ trafficking, but an organized band is not enough, you need an expert doctor, a surgeon, a good pediatric surgeon, because the Miki organs were removed with care and without complications" he says, moving another step towards a painting that he observes for a few minutes. Bailey does not lose sight of him for a moment and continues to keep the gun pointed at him, now more sure of himself but also intrigued.  
"Second move, Miki, working with me on memory, remembered seeing a shimmer as he came out of the house, like the reflection on your glasses, Doctor, and also remembered hearing a noise, a little metallic heart that runs, like that clock that even now you do not have repaired and runs more than necessary, maybe it is a gift and you do not want to separate from it".

Arthur blinks for a moment his eyes, surprised that the details, which would seem so insignificant, may have made him understand so much. He knew he was smart, but helping the policewoman to address him, had given hope that he would place himself in a safe position beyond suspicion. He was mistakenly mistaken. That night when Miki escaped, he had just finished a very complicated kidney removal surgery and was resting in a room. The glasses and the clock were placed on the bedside table, near the open door. Before he realized what had happened, Miki had already escaped and in the night it was then impossible to track him down.

"Third move, to make sure I'm not wrong I investigated you and found that you move between all pediatric hospitals. But you was not on duty at Wellington Hospital South, when Miki was brought there. You asked to be assigned to that department on purpose to keep an eye on him." Sherlock continues to speak calmly, always moving only a few steps.  
"Fourth move, having the certainty I decided that the only way to make sure that nothing happened to Miki, was to keep him constantly under observation, so I gave him a bandage, with a locator inside" he turns now to Arthur doing a small step towards him.  
"Stand still there, do not move another step or shoot without thinking about it"  
"Checkmate doctor. You should play chess, this is a move that only manages against beginners, a move that always starts from pawns, which are always so little considered, a move that Miki has learned very well" the look of Sherlock right now is mocking and Arthur, with the corner of his eye, only now sees a movement to his left. Miki, without him realizing it, while Sherlock was talking and distracting him, he approached him and, after taking the gun under the table, now pointed it to him, holding it with two hands.

"I must warn you doctor that I believe, alas, to have taught Miki also how to use a gun. You know, I have the bad habit of shooting against the wall of my house at times and no one takes more notice of the shots or the bullets in the wall," he says in the same tone a bit teasing now.

Arthur looks at the little boy who points his gun at the corner of his eye, then returns to look at Sherlock. It's over, he knows it's over, unless he's so quick to shoot both. The finger on the trigger starts to press, but suddenly he hears a shot and every thought fades in a second.

Sherlock watches Arthur fall after the shot that has centered in his temple, piercing from left to right. He briefly blinks his eyes and then looks at Miki, who still holds the gun with two hands and whose eyes do not seem to have the slightest fear. He closes his eyes for a moment, sighing, then approaches Miki and gently takes the gun from his hands.  
"Now you do not need it anymore, Miki, it is over" he says, taking a napkin from the cupboard and starting to clean the gun from the fingerprints.  
"He was about to shoot," Miki tells him. He remembers that Sherlock had told him not to ever use one, unless it was necessary to save his life or save it to someone else.  
"I know Miki, I know" he does not add that, perhaps, he could have avoided the bullet and disarmed the man, who certainly was not used to fighting. But he also reflects that twice he took a bullet and maybe avoiding the third was not really a bad thing.  
"But now we'll have to say something different to the police that is coming, Miki" he finishes cleaning the gun, then holds it well and fires a shot to empty against a belief that immediately shatters.  
"It will be better to say that I was the one to shoot, everything will be easier, so now I want you to promise me that you will never tell anyone that you were you to shoot. And you must also promise me that you will avoid doing it again," he tells him as he approaches. Greg John and Eleonor will not take long to arrive, he thinks, after his phone call, made before entering the house, which warned them where exactly he was.  
"I do not know if I can promise you not to do it anymore. If someone tries to kill you, I think I'll do it again" Miki replies without breaking it down.

Sherlock looks at him seriously and nods.  
"In that case I will avoid, as far as possible, to find ourselves in similar situations. Now let's go downstairs to free your friends," he replies with a slight smile.

Miki looks at him and nods too. Now that everything is over suddenly, he feels a series of emotions grown inside him. Fear, happiness, a sense of liberation. Without thinking, he approaches Sherlock and hugs him tightly. He never embraced anyone, apart from his friend Jimmy, and now he feels a need for it.

Sherlock is surprised and for a few moments remains still. Then slowly he puts his arm around his shoulders and hugs him to himself. He remembers now that phrase said by Mycroft _"be careful not to burn you"_ and sighing he thinks that, after all, his brother was right.


	16. Chapter 16

**London - Baker Street - 25 July 2018 - 6.00 p.m.**

Dismantling the organization behind organ trafficking is a long and difficult job, but luckily Jack Fulton, the gang man caught in the villa, had only fainted after the blows against the wall and started working with the police in exchange for protection. John, thanks to his medical skills, has given a valuable help to Eleonor and Greg, identifying with them all the various possible places where they were illegally transplanted the organs stolen from those poor children. He still remembers the infinite punishment when they arrived at the villa and recovered them from those dark and cold cells. He did not agree very much in letting Sherlock approach the villa on his own, but moving around it could make them discover and lose the surprise. At a distance then they had followed the locator in the Miki blindfold, leaving it to be the detective to act first. Fortunately, everything went well, even if there was a dead man. But at least this time none of them had been hurt. Of course, it had been a great risk, but they had no other choice to find that villa and free the other children, because the investigations on the band were always at a standstill.

John now smiles thinking back to the previous night spent in a brewery with Eleonor, to celebrate the closure of the case. He really likes that woman and did not feel like that for a long time. Now, before 221B, he stops the car and goes down. He left Rosie with Molly at Sherlock's house all day and now he cannot wait to hug her. When the front door is open, he enters and greets Mrs. Hudson, who is talking on the phone with someone, perhaps the baker with whom she seems to be engaging in some sort of relationship. He climbs the stairs and enters Sherlock's living room, hearing Irene's voice, who does not seem particularly happy for something.

"Forget it, Sherlock Holmes, I have no intention" Irene is standing in the living room, arms crossed on her breasts and look almost of fire, facing the kitchen where his friend, Molly, Miki and Rosie, sitting around the table, are eating something and the smell must be of muffins or something like that. "You lost, you can’t refuse, bets are paid," Sherlock answers calmly between bites. "It was not the kind of request I expected. It was not a bet, but a deception," Irene tells him without changing tone and look. "The type of request was not specified, the bet was that those who lost could not refuse a request. You lost. You can’t refuse," Sherlock still replies with the same calm and sure tone.

John looks at the two facing each other as he approaches the table and notices how Molly and Miki seem to enjoy listening to them, while they enjoy the blueberry muffins on a plate in the center of the table. "Did Mrs. Hudson make them?" He asks, reaching for one. "No, Sherlock made them and won the bet," Miki replies as he smashes his muffin and gives Rosie a small bite.

John looks at them and smiles. Miki has been living in his house for a few days, because Sherlock has moved seas and mountains, but above all he has moved his brother Mycroft, to prevent the boy being taken to a facility for minors, waiting to be fostered. In these few days it seems that Miki is very attached to his daughter and follows her constantly, taking care of her. He seems to have an innate instinct of protection towards others and, now that he has no more friends to save, he turns these attentions to Rosie. He's a really a smart kid, he reflects as he looks at him. In a few days he is already learning to read and if he continues like this it will not be difficult for him to recover his studies on which he is late. "What bet?" He asks, biting into the muffin and after tasting it he is surprised by how soft and perfect it is.  


"I had the bad idea to bet with your friend here that he would not be able to make perfect muffins by reading the recipe only once" Irene answers always standing with the same rather ferocious expression. "You should know that he always wins these bets," John says, who almost devoured the muffin. "Yes I know, but it deceived me, it was not the kind of request that I expected" Irene sighs and now she seems resigned. "You did not specify the kind of request, you lost, not to insist, you will come to the lunch organized by my mother" Sherlock tells her with a tone now between the amused and the triumphant. "If you think I'm going to be your girlfriend, you're crazy more than I thought" Irene answers, flashing his eyes. "Of course you will not do it and you can come as you please, but you will come. And anyway, think about how much fun it will be to irritate my brother. Your presence will be enough to make it difficult for him," he adds with a smile.

Irene does not immediately respond as if she were reflecting on something. Then a slight smile appears on her face. "You are a demon. You know that irritating your brother is one of my favorite funs" she says shaking her head and now stretching a hand she takes a muffin and tastes it. "God, is very good... how you succeed in these things is really incredible" she finally says shaking her head.

At that moment a light knock is heard at the open door of the living room. "Can I come in? The lady who opened me told me to go up directly" they hear a male voice and after a while Alex, Irene's brother, appears.

"Oh Alex, well, come and taste a muffin, I made them by winning a bet with your sister" Sherlock tells him to invite him in.

Molly and John turn to the newly entered man and their surprised look is quite obvious.

"If you repeat it again you will pay it very much, Sherlock" Irene says turning then to Alex "do not ever bet with him, if you want my advice" she says and greets him "I introduce you to Dr. John Watson, you'll have heard of him I guess, and Molly Hooper" she adds finally.

Alex approaches and greets John with an energetic handshake, with his friendly and captivating smile that sets him apart. "Dr. Watson is a pleasure to meet you" then he approaches Molly and his smile now becomes slightly seductive, very reminiscent of Irene. "Molly Hooper, it's really an honor to meet you. I have read your latest publications. Your work is really interesting and I would have come looking for you in these days. I have a research project where your help could be a great contribution" he says, taking her hand in his hands in an elegant but intimate greeting.

His tone is as sincere as his smile and Molly is surprised, flattered and even embarrassed. Hardly anyone knows of her research work that she has published and finding someone who has read and appreciated them is really an unusual, pleasantly unusual fact. "Yes, yes, yes, of course," she stammers, as usual, staring at those dark blu eyes so penetrating and blushes without even knowing why. "Very well then. I'll come to see you tomorrow if it does not bother, so we can discuss my research," Alex replies, who does not seem to notice the obvious embarrassment of Molly. On the contrary, always used to being surrounded by strong and secure women, she finds her way of doing somehow fascinating. "Yes, no, I mean it does not bother me" Molly still babbles leaving his hands now and hiding her face in the coffee cup. "Well, now you have to apologize but I have to kidnap my sister, the theater is waiting for us and we cannot be late" he adds then watching Sherlock "compliments for the muffins, Irene had not told me that you was also a good cook". "I am not in fact, I become it in case of necessity" Sherlock replies greeting him with a nod of the head. "You will pay it Sherlock, remember it," Irene tells him, taking her jacket from a chair. "Let's go then," she says to Alex, greeting everyone before going out with her brother.

"I did not know she had a brother," John tells him after they leave. "I did not even know it, half brother from mother. That important person who made us have that list of irregular transplants," he replies, getting up from the table and going to the living room. "Ah, now I understand everything," John says, remembering how Irene seemed to be trying to provoke his friend somehow. And now, however, he managed to get it on the issue of lunch with his mother. This is a relationship with the sword, he reflects smiling, where the points are always tied at the end. "John, come here, I have something for you," then he hears his friend say and sees him take a piece of paper from his desk. John gets up and joins him while Molly stays with Miki and his daughter raiding what's left of the muffins. "What is it?" He asks, taking the paper he is giving him. It looks like a report with lots of stamps and signatures. At the top he sees his name and also that of Miki. "It's the official report that Miki is entrusted to you definitively," Sherlock tells him, lowering his voice so as not to be heard.

 John looks at him puzzled, blinking his eyes. "Sherlock, I'm not asking how you did it, it seems clear to me that you made your brother mad to get it, but I do not understand why. I did not ask it, and I do not want to say that I would not mind it. Miki is a boy who has passed many troubles and certainly deserves that someone now takes care of him," he says weighing the paper and looking seriously in the eyes. "And that's exactly why I did it. He can’t go to any family. They may not understand him or fail to give him what he needs. He is very intelligent but can’t yet go to school. He needs first to recover with private lessons. And he needs someone who can understand him. They could ruin him if he ended up in a family not at his height," Sherlock answers. "Yes, I understood this. But we both know that you want to take care of him and also that he is very attached to you. So, I repeat. Why entrust him to me?" John asks again, folding the sheet and handing it to Sherlock as if to return it to him. "Because I can’t take care of him, John. My life is a constant chaos, you know, I'm a mess. I can’t do it, I need your help. Miki needs your help" he says to him now and he almost seems to be praying. "You can do anything you want Sherlock, you can do that too, believe me," John answers again, holding the sheet toward him. "He shot him, John... I did not shoot Bailey... it was Miki. He did it to defend me, but he did it with a certainty that a boy of eleven should not have. Do you understand now why Miki needs your help? He resembles me too much, he needs someone like you who can teach him how to feel his humanity. You did it with me, you can do it with him," Sherlock tells him in an even lower voice so that only he can hear it. John opens his eyes slightly to his words and understands what his friend is worried about. He weighs the sheet again, then after a few moments nods and puts it in a pocket.

At that moment Molly, with Rosie in her arms, and Miki coming from the kitchen. "John your daughter starts to get sleepy, we have to take her home and put her to sleep" the friend tells him, passing his daughter to him. "Yes, you're right it's time to go. Miki greets Sherlock and take your stuff. Tonight we better arrange your room. Maybe we think together how to furnish it. Surely it takes a bookshelf and a desk" he tells Miki who looks at him from his single eye, just tilting his head.

Until now Miki had not considered that room as his own but he likes the thought. John likes him, he's a good man, different from Sherlock, but even with him he feels safe and often makes him laugh. And Rosie is really sweet and it's fun to take care of her. He looks at Sherlock and smiles at him. He knows there's no room for him in his house. He understood it by himself. But he also knows that he can come to him whenever he wants. He feels it is so and this is enough for him. He would like to hug him again, but he feels that this is not the moment. There will be more moments, he knows. "Well, a library is absolutely necessary Miki. Maybe tomorrow we're going to buy some books together. And even a chessboard, so you could play with John. With him you will almost always win, you will see" Sherlock tells him smiling and stretching a hand to ruffle his hair. Molly and John laugh at the joke, though John thinks it's not such an unlikely thing that Miki beats him at chess. After all, the checkmate at Bailey and his gang of criminals did it himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are at the end of this second long story. If you have arrived until now, you also know Miki, Eleonor and Alex and I hope you enjoyed these new characters. They will be part of the life of Sherlock and others from now on.   
> After this there are 4 other long stories and a oneshot. They are all already written in my original language and slowly I will translate them, hoping to entertain, and maybe in some cases even excite, as much as I enjoyed and excited myself to write them.  
> Every comment is welcome.  
> Until the next story (which will be very hard I warn you)


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